La Symphonie d'Amour
by Demeter1
Summary: Severus Snape. Remus Lupin. A return to Hogwarts. Spells a disastrous combination filled with mishaps, insults, memories, deaths, the ultimate battle between good and evil, and perhaps, a renewed relationship that once had been lost. Part Four.
1. Beginning

**La Symphonie d'Amour**

**Demeter**

**Part 1: Beginning**

**Warnings:** Slash. Remus and Severus pairing. A heavy dose of angst and dark themes. But also snogs galore and waffy romance. Also includes Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Percy/Oliver, and a host of couples that I don't want to take the time to list. Therefore; if you don't like slash, don't bother reading. 

For the snapeslash list challenge set by JayKay.

"Make Severus Snape do the chasing and having someone be chased." ^__^ my sort of fun.

**Disclaimer:** All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic are copyright of Demeter.

***NOTE*** Due to a few well-placed comments and my own realization that the editing job on this fic was even shoddier than I had thought, I re-re-edited this and I hope even more that it's slightly more readable. This is its sixth reincarnation. *grins* **Thanks to Zebee for the total rocking beta help! **

~*~*~*~*~*~

If there was anything Severus Snape hated more than Harry Potter, it was Valentines Day. 

Evil.

Putrid.

Sickeningly sweet.

_Pink_.

With a barely-concealed shudder, Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, Head of the illustrious Slytherin House, and all-around nasty guy strode through the darkened hallways, hoping to catch a student – preferably Potter – out of bed so his wand could sing out the loss of points. Even more preferably; a month of detention with Filch.

Voldemort's reign of terror was still in the backbone of the magical community. Everyday, there were new disappearances, usually of those on the edge of society. It was like a circle: the Death Eaters started on the outer rim and were making their way to the center. 

The wizarding world had been regulated back toward another era of jittery calm and – _sneer_ – falsified peace, thanks to the ever-so _heroic_ magical powers of one, Harry Potter, and the bumbling Ministry. The official stand was still "No Voldemort" and Harry was _still_ revered as the one who had managed to defeat Voldemort in his youth. Of course, the news that the Daily Prophet was concerning itself with now was the fact that the 'Prince' had chosen his 'Princess' already.

Draco Malfoy.

The Prophet was gushing over and over about how he had conquered the barriers of their sex and chosen his true love rather than follow society. How wonderful! How touching! Snape growled. Potter had triumphed on the proverbial rock… and he _still_ couldn't manage to create a satisfactory shrinking potion! 

All in all, very aggravating to Severus Snape, The One Who Loathes Harry Bloody Potter. 

It didn't help that because it was _Harry Potter's_ last Valentine, the venerable but admittedly stupid and idiotic Dumbledore had decided to let the two great (worthless) and kindly (mean-spirited) godfathers enjoy Potter's Valentines day and to celebrate Potter's engagement to Draco Malfoy. For the next few days, until the actual unholy morning, he would be stuck watching over a group of horny teenagers. 

Snape swore loudly, startling several portraits into full-glaring glances. He ignored the hissing and concentrated on the wonderful mental image of his hands wrapping themselves around Harry Potter's – admittedly sexy – little throat and squeezing the life out of the scrawny hero who had taken his best student from him! 

Damn Potter!

Damn Sirius Black for that matter!

And damn Re… well, perhaps not, since he rather liked – though he would die before admitting that – the werewolf. Perhaps it stemmed from his own masochistic tendencies to have strong, attractive feelings toward people who threatened danger toward his physical and mental well-being. 

_Wonderful. I want to bang the werewolf._ Not 'a' werewolf, but 'the' werewolf.

Thoughts now decidedly sour and sweet, he ventured toward his ultimate destination, the reason why he was still in the open at this ungodly hour in the evening. Damn it. He wanted to be in the dark, dank parts of his dungeon rooms. 

A summons from Dumbledore. 

Never mind that this was his private time. Never mind that he would have infinitely preferred a tall decanter of aged brandy, settling in with a volume of _Poisonous Potions through the Potion Ages_, maybe even a divan draped over his decidedly bony legs. 

Glaring down at his robe-hidden 'legs' he swept into the narrow hallways that led to the steep staircase, which led to the gargoyle, which led to his muttering the password that led Severus Snape into the warm and cheery chambers of one Albus Dumbledore. 

He hadn't always dreaded these impromptu meetings. 

There had been days, bad days, when these chambers had been the only sanctuary he could stand. When the blackness had gotten too black, even for him; these rooms had provided a light and warmth that no fire could possibly compare to. 

Always, when he entered, he would remember darker times – it made current times all the better because he could believe that things could still improve – when he raved in madness, in hurt, trying to forget, willing to remember. There had been so few memories that he had wanted to keep that sometimes it took a great deal of shifting to find those cherished pieces.  

And of course, he looked at the circular room as his redemption. He had come in the dead of night, in the middle of a school year, with nothing left to lose, nothing more to gain, just deadness, shrieking insanity that threatened to consume him when he closed his eyes for more than a minute.  Snape remembered the clawing trees, the wailing of whatever blasted birds were on the grounds, each screaming that it was _his fault_.

_Bah. _

With that inelegant snort, he raked a slim hand through his slightly oily hair and opened the door to the inner chambers. 

Only to find Albus Dumbledore sitting with a maddening twinkle in his silvery, always ageless eyes… and a nervous-looking Remus Lupin and a partially sneering Sirius Black. 

Any normal person, on encountering his former arch-rival, the half-man, half-beast who had tried to kill him, any _normal_ person would have at least flinched, backed away, or even just stared. 

But not Severus Snape.

He hesitated only the barest fraction of an second, unnoticeable by even the great Headmaster Dumbledore, and sat himself primly into the other vacant chair, his dark eyes boring intensely into the white figure before him, daring the older man to even start speaking. 

When was the last time all four were in this room together? Oh, wait, never. Because the last time the four had ever been involved in an event together was the Shrieking Shack where Sirius tried to kill him, where Remus did kill him in a way, and Dumbledore had written the whole thing off as a bloody prank. How many years ago was that? Twenty? Twenty-five?

Snape was relatively sure he considered that the last time he would go within one hundred feet of Sirius Black again. Of course, fate – sneer – always liked to pull him into the deep end of the water. 

"Ah, Severus! Welcome! Tea?"

Snape nodded slightly and Dumbledore immediately set to providing a cup of hot, delicate tea that would warm and thaw out his frozen senses for the time being. 

Remus Lupin was in the room!

"Headmaster." He saw Dumbledore pause ever so slightly at his formal usage of his title. Inwardly, he grinned maliciously. That would unsettle the old man. Snape only bothered to call him Headmaster when he was angry… or worse, hurt and uneasy. 

"Yes, Severus?"

"If I may ask, what is the purpose of your summon? They were urgent." Snape twisted his head in the direction of the two former Marauders and he risked a glance at Lupin. The man was better looking than in Potter's third year, but not by much. Both he and Black were still gaunt, weary, dirty-looking. Without a break in his sour expression, he responded to the unnamed question in the air. 

"What does this meeting have to do with Black and Lupin?" Good, good. Calm and cool. No expression. No response to their presence. Better to annoy Black with indifference than hate. 

"That was what I was about to speak of. You do know that Remus and Sirius need a few weeks in the castle due to security precautions… Of course, Remus needs the potion and I need them to reside in the dungeons with you for the duration of their stay at Hogwarts."

Snape could have sworn birds chirped for the moment of horrified silence that he allowed to wash over the room. 

Stay with him? A werewolf and former ex-convict? Was Dumbledore finally teetering on the edge of lunacy and prepared to take Snape with him? Worse. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black! Two of the four people he hated most in the world. And, no, the fourth wasn't Peter Pettigrew. As if he would stoop so low as to hate the nasty little traitor – _hypocritical aren't we?_ – who had done everything in his power to make Dumbledore cry. 

The fourth person was Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy didn't bother him as much as he used to. He remembered the Lucius from Hogwarts: granted, still arrogant and condescending but undeniably brilliant. He rivaled Snape in brains, James Potter in charisma, Sirius Black in looks, and Remus Lupin in oozing sexuality. _I didn't just think that, did I?_

Lucius was part of the reason why he liked Draco so much. His son was nothing and everything like his father. 

Malfoy.

Another reason why these two were even in the Hogwarts castle. The situation between Lucius and Draco hadn't diffused in the least bit and even though Draco had broken with his family, Lucius was still trying his damn hardest, no longer under the pretence of being the 'good guy' to the ministry, of reclaiming his son. His heir. His possession. And as much Severus Snape loathed him, he had to concede that Lucius was one of the most cunning bastards out there; there was little he didn't know about Hogwarts. It seemed only a matter of time before he would be able to get in and 'take' Draco back. 

"Stay with me?" There, at least he could still coherently voice his thoughts. 

"Yes, Severus." Dumbledore's voice took on a jovial tone and for a horrible moment Snape was sure he wanted to hex the older man in his dinky little chair. 

Controlling himself, he murmured, "The dungeons? Surely more appropriate for former_ Gryffindors_ to stay in the tower of _Gryffindor_," spitting out the foul name of – to him at least – the bane of his existence. 

"I've thought about it, but I think that it would be far safer for them to be in your capable hands-" he paused to shoot a warning glance at Sirius who had snorted. "In your hands instead of unsettling the students. The faculty was most adamant you take them in."

_Of course; they've been after my blood for years_. "Traitors," he muttered almost absently. He chose to ignore Black's dirty glare and Lupin's shushing movement. His mind was still trying to wrap its way around the idea of Sirius Black – and worse – Remus Lupin staying in his dungeons, his room, his sanctuary… he cut the last thought off. 

Nodding stiffly, he said, "They may stay there."

With that settled he stood to leave, needing time to absorb the situation and also to find a new place to stay for a few weeks. There was no way in hell he would stay in the dungeons with them around. Surely Dumbledore knew that? Of course, his characteristically bitter thoughts added, that's the reason Dumbledore sent them down there. Why not give the rooms to Gryffindors when only a _Slytherin_ was down there anyways? Better him then any of the other teachers. Oh, of course there were other Slytherins on the staff, but none who were like him. 

_Failed Death Eater! Traitorous Death Eater!_

"Severus, I have a few separate items to discuss with you. Sirius, Remus, you two may go and visit Harry. He should be in the Gryffindor common room." His kind words lit a spark in Black's face and for a moment, Snape could see the parts of Black that were still that Gryffindor golden boy, the dark-haired Keeper who had done everything in his power to ruin a certain dark-haired boy who had belonged to Slytherin. 

_And how he succeeded_. Snape sneered at the little voice in his head that never seemed to go away; no matter how many draughts he forced himself to drink in order to stay conscious. The human body, he knew, was at the most basic level, a bag of chemicals. Creating the right potion would be able to ensure that he needed no sleep, needed no break. 

_No rest for the wicked, eh?_

"Severus, please, sit."

He sat. 

For long moments, Snape could feel Dumbledore's eyes drilling into his bowed head. He knew what was going to come next. A litany of explanations, excuses, reasoning's on why he shouldn't be angry, shouldn't feel betrayed, shouldn't screech about the favoritism. A loathing sneer painted its way across his sallow skin. He had heard them all already and wasn't in the mood to steel himself for another round. 

"Severus. Look at me."

Snape finally lifted his head, tooling his face into its usual impassive mask whenever he dealt with Dumbledore. No need to get crude when the master of masks was before him. The sympathy and pity was there in those too-blue eyes and Snape wanted to wipe that soft smile away by cursing him with Cruciatus. Let _him_ see how it felt to go back to Voldemort over and over. 

His thoughts were always so dark, regardless of how much time he spent in the light. 

"Severus… I know this is hard for you to comprehend, but perhaps you could see it as a chance to finally settle these differences between yourself and Sirius."

Snape settled on a snarl but subsided into silence to hear Dumbledore out.

"Differences that are undoubtedly causing a great deal of distress for Remus."

There was a short, tense silence and then Snape gave a short bark of laughter. "And what do I care for the werewolf?" 

_Liar_.

_Shut up._

"I know little, but still, I remember that you two had been the closest as any of those four. You tutored him in Potions, wasn't it?" 

"Yes."

"And why?"

"Because he asked me to."

"And you agreed?"

"Because at the time, there was no reason not to."

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and observed his once-wayward student. The black hair that during his youth that had been relatively clean was now oily, rather oily… sometimes, when he had a rare moment of freedom, he would idly wonder why Severus chose to keep his hair so obviously unclean. Sometimes he mused that it was to keep others away… but he chose to not dwell on that thought too long. He knew. He knew that of all his former students, perhaps Severus had suffered some of the worst the Fates could hand out. 

For his choices, for his failings, for everything done to him and everything he had done. Truly, the man was a walking body of contradictions. And that made Albus Dumbledore rather sad sometimes. 

"Severus, you understand that it's for the best that they stay in the dungeons with you?"

"Headmaster," Snape hesitated. Normally, he would defer to his mentor in every situation, but this was just simply preposterous. The headmaster didn't really expect that Black and himself would simply kiss – he shuddered – and make up right? He barreled on. "You don't… why…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Do you really believe it wise to invite a wanted man and a werewolf into the castle where children are?" 

He was doing it again, hiding what he really felt behind barbed words, veiling his doubts and worries in his sarcastic nature, evil, disheartening words that always had a way of seeming like a subtle threat. 

"You know as I well I do that Remus is safe with your potion and that Sirius did not commit the crimes he is being pursued for." Snape noted that Dumbledore's voice had taken on a hint of steel. Sure. Insult Gryffindors and he would get his head bitten off. Insult a Slytherin and Dumbledore would just twinkle. _Twinkle_.

"There is no deluding yourself, Headmaster, that Black is a wanted man, regardless of why he's wanted. He's still _wanted_. And Lupin is no better. If not for me, during that year when Black came back, he would have killed those blasted children." Snape stared intently into Dumbledore's eyes, willing the older man to agree, to say that 'yes, you're right. You saved them and they should have thanked you on their knees instead of displaying that usual haughtiness in thinking they did the right thing.'

What was it? Right, a fine chance it would happen. 

"You're right, but there was a mistake there. Both Remus and Sirius have agreed that the route they took during Harry's third year was perhaps the worst, but they felt they had no other choice."

Snape snarled. No choice? There were always choices! Didn't Dumbledore make it painfully clear that night when he had come begging for sanctuary, that he had made the worst possible choice of his life? That no matter what had happened – even if it was over despair that his life mattered little to Dumbledore – that choosing to go to Voldemort was not only infinitely fool-hardy, but damning because he had directly and indirectly killed and caused harm to so many.

"No choice?" Damn his voice. Why did it have to sound so strangled?

Dumbledore paused. Perhaps his selected words weren't the best. Those sorts of words with the nature of the situation probably brought back memories for the Potions Master. "Forgive me Severus. I wasn't thinking. I concede. They had a choice, but everything turned out all right in the end, right?"

All right. Yes. If 'alright' meant that he had been stripped of his chance to get the Order of the Merlin. If 'alright' meant being humiliated beyond repair. If 'alright' meant having to look at Potter in the face day in and day out, knowing that the brat should be thanking him for saving his life, yet Potter stared at him defiantly, daring him to say anything. If 'alright' meant enduring several weeks of sleepless nights when he really did want to rest for once. If 'alright' meant losing Remus Lupin twice… then yes, everything had turned out 'alright' in the end.

"Severus?"

"If there is nothing more, Headmaster, I need to retire to my rooms and make some plans." Safe subject. Cordial but firm. 

"Of course, Severus. One more thing. Draco Malfoy? How have the Slytherins been treating him?" There was a worried tone in the voice that rarely fretted himself about Slytherins. 

"There are some who have shunned him but most are accepting and are still looking to him as their leader. Among those most supportive are Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini - " Here he was interrupted by Dumbledore with a startled exclamation. 

"Blaise Zabini? Of the Moor's Zabini's?"

"Yes."

"Indeed." Dumbledore was stroking his beard and there was a softening light in his steel-blue eyes. 

"And also Millicent Bulstrode." The last was finished with almost a distracted note. He had been sure that Pansy and Millicent would not like Draco for – using an indelicate word – snogging his houses literal "antichrist', but he remembered that afternoon well…

~*~

_"Draco's in love with Potter, isn't he?"_

_Snape paused in his work to study his Slytherin student. Now in her sixth year, she had grown from her slightly pudgy, chattering, sneering, shrieking self into a quiet, pale, and thin, extremely thin, young woman who rarely, if ever, spoke to anyone except for Millicent and Leda, the only other two girls in her year. _

_There were of course circumstances surrounding her change. _

_And he still in part blamed himself for it. _

_He hadn't expected them to move so quickly, to seize a student of his so easily. They had taken Pansy by force, her own father agreeing to her induction into the Death Eaters. Severus had stood there that night, watching with clenched fists, with hooded eyes, as they dragged her to the center, ignoring her screams of terror, her pleadings for them to stop, her shrieks of pain, as the mark was finally burned forever into her arm. _

_Afterwards, he saw her father reprimand her for making a fool of him in front of the Dark Lord. And then he Disapparated with barely a word of consolation. She had stood there for the longest time, staring blankly at the spot her father used to be, before lifting eyes to stare straight into Snape's. Tears shimmered there and her voice rose, grew high-pitched in accusation. _

_"Why didn't you stop them?"_

_He had no answer for her. There would never be an answer. He could only stand there, protect her from what little she didn't know now. _

_"Why didn't you stop them? I didn't want this! I didn't want THIS!" Her last shriek came out as a strangled sob and she threw herself at him, pummeling his chest with hands that were still caked with the dried blood of her initiation. Snape let her hit him; he deserved it no less and she needed the outlet before returning home. _

_With a broken cry, she slid to the ground and clutched the Dark Mark, her fingers scrabbling to tear the skin from her arm, digging into newly-healed flesh in an attempt to rip the very scar that now proclaimed her evilness, her darkness, her 'Slytherin' traits._

_Snape didn't move closer; it wasn't his nature to offer comfort… not even to a student who had just been pushed to the brink and then carelessly tossed over. He knew what it felt like to wake up within the arms of the enemy. And those she had trusted most had delivered he into the literal hands of evil. _

_But he wouldn't, couldn't comfort her. _

_A few moments later, her mother Apparated in and saw the two of them still together. With barely a glance at her crying daughter, she took Pansy up by the arm, nodded stiffly to Severus and then disappeared with a *pop*, taking Pansy with her. _

_Severus could remember standing, staring at the spot where she left for a long time afterwards. He had needed a good pint of brandy before being able to sleep without the aid of potions that night. And still his thoughts were plagued with nightmares._

_"Professor. I'm right, aren't I?"_

_Feeling that there was no more need to hide anything of the sort, he nodded curtly, watching her carefully for any sign of dissension, of disgust, or worse, malice and opportunity. _

_At first, there was nothing on her face; she was a Slytherin after all, tooled and trained in concealing all their emotions. But he finally could see a burgeoning weariness in her dark blue eyes, the fading color of youth, only to be replaced by an older, far too old for his tastes, young adult who had seen enough bloodshed in her life to faze the hardest Auror. _

_"He managed to leave, didn't he? He didn't choose the easy road like I did."_

_"You were never given the choice, Miss Parkinson."_

_Pansy ignored his poor words of comfort. "He chose to go down the path he felt at peace with. He… he escaped." Her last words were hushed, almost reverent. _

_Snape continued his work silently, waiting out what she really wanted to say. Slytherins chose to go in circles, a trait that drove the other houses mad, but served their own purposes well. _

_"Do you know…" She trailed off, her voice now a low whisper. "Do you know that Draco and I had asked each other, once, a long time ago, what we really wanted? I had told him that I wanted nothing more than to be gray. He looked at me as if I was insane." She paused to smile briefly at the memory. "And then I asked him in turn what he wanted…. He told me that what he wanted, he could never have. He was so sure… But he's gotten what he wanted…"_

_"Perhaps he did."_

_"Do you think… do you think I can still have what I want?"_

_Snape regarded her steadily. During the months after her induction, he had no news of her well-being and by the time he returned to school, he was rather anxious about his student. When the welcoming ceremony had opened and the students had filed in slowly, he found himself craning to catch a look of Pansy, something he rarely did for any of his students. _

_When he finally saw her, he hissed in surprise, drawing the attention of Minerva who was sitting next to him. Her sharp eyes had followed his and what they saw stunned and sickened them both. _

_Pansy had veritably gone the way of the ghosts. Her face was gaunt and thin, pale and colorless. Her normally glossy and perfectly-coiffed blonde hair now hung straggled around her face, barely making a dent in her expression. Before, her hair had been scraped into elaborate hairstyles to call attention to all her attributes; now they hid her face, blocked her features, and cloaked her eyes.  _

_She looked like a walking corpse. _

_Minerva knew a little of what had happened at the end of their sixth year, but apparently she had doubted the repercussions until now. Snape, oddly, didn't feel like gloating. He was too busy staring at Pansy, wondering whether he should have exposed himself and saved her. _

_Slowly, through the year she seemed to recover, but she remained deathly quiet to all and she floated through school, not even offering her usual insults to Granger or Potter. More than one Slytherin noticed her change – who couldn't? – but there was little they could do, so they pretended it didn't exist. _

_Snape was brought back to reality with a crash as Pansy once again spoke. "I've thought about it for a long time. I don't think I can be a Death Eater." _

_Her quiet but certain words caused an unusual wellspring of pride to rise in him. He moved swiftly to her side and bent to peer into her faded eyes. "You can be whatever you want to be Pansy. And you will always have my support." He had then brushed a hand through her hair, fatherly, gentle. Her eyes had fluttered close at the unexpected tenderness._

_And she broke down. _

_Silent tears that had run down her face before were now harsh, wrenching sobs, one after another. Sobs that literally tore her body and soul apart as they came forth, long-denied. Her weeping pushed his own memories to the front of his mind and Snape wondered almost idly whether he had ever been like this. Trusting enough to cry in the arms of his Head of House. _

_Her tears ran for a long time. They were the release in a long year of wondering, asking, questioning. And it was the end. She had chosen her path and it was no longer the same one her parents had chosen for her. _

_That very night, he had led her to Dumbledore and she had then taken the vow for The Order of the Phoenix. _

_~*~_

Snape breathed out. 

That week after, she had started to grow in color. She no longer arranged her hair so elaborately, but she didn't leave it straggled around her face either. Pansy kept it in a simply ponytail, rarely ever doing anything beyond that. She had swept her entire make-up collection, her accessories, and her jewels into a bag and sealed it with a charm. And soon thereafter, her grades returned and this time, she vied with Draco for the top scores in Slytherin. 

"Severus?"

"Headmaster, I would like to retire to my rooms. I have a few arrangements to make before Lupin and Black can stay there." He nodded briskly and then moved from the chambers. 

Snape didn't wait to hear Dumbledore's token protests. He shut the door as quickly as possible, pausing an instant to lean against the wooden panel, allowing a rare moment of weakness to come upon him. Tossing his hair out of his face, he walked swiftly down the darkened hallways toward the dungeons where, for the next few weeks, he would *not* be. 

Bursting in, he closed the heavy oak door behind him and muttered several locking charms before going into his bedroom. With a few words, the sheets and pillows of the bed changed and the blankets were folded neatly. Undoubtedly, Black and Lupin would share a bed. 

He ignored the odd jolt at those words and worked on transferring many of his things into a valise. The dungeons were an extensive labyrinth and he had many of the rooms to himself; one of the many advantages of living in the cold, dark underground areas of Hogwarts. No one else wanted to go down there so he had plenty of privacy. There were several rooms furnished to his liking and undoubtedly, if he tried to place _them_ in rooms further from the Great Hall than necessary, they – at least Black – would cry 'how rude'! 

He was still agitatedly packing when he heard a soft rustle behind him. Stiffening, he didn't turn around right away but waited a moment before twisting on his heel to look straight into the pensive, amber eyes of Remus Lupin. 

I knew I should have done more elaborate locking charms.

Snape knew that through years of experience, his face never displayed his emotions. They were perpetually in that snarling, sneering mask of derision, sarcasm, whatever would keep others away. The only ones it didn't work on were Albus and oddly enough, Poppy Pomfrey. 

"Severus… It's been a while."

He paused. What was he to say to that? 'Yes, it has been. The last time we saw each other, you cost me The Order of the Merlin.' Snape almost wanted to laugh. 

"Lupin." With a sharp nod, he tossed the rest of his things into a bag and magically levitating it, he moved toward the entrance of the bedroom to shift out. 

Remus glanced at the bag and then at the room, a dawning realization shadowing his face. He held out a slim, pale hand and clasped it on Snape's upper arm. On his _left_ arm. Snape hissed and he swatted Remus' hand away harder than necessary. Much harder. Enough so that Remus stumbled back in surprise and… was that hurt in his eyes?

"Severus…"

"Lupin, I do not wish to speak with you about anything. These chambers will be yours and Black's for your stay. Enjoy." His last word was mocking and with a slight bow, almost archaic in form, he stalked from the bedroom. 

Leaving Remus Lupin alone. 

Again. 

_So that's the way it is, isn't it Severus?_ The Potions Master obviously had not forgiven him for his part in Harry's third year fiasco. Perhaps he even blamed Remus more than anyone else for not trying to explain the Shrieking Shack incident in the proper light.

But how could I? Harry needed the truth then and there. It wasn't time to discuss how someone didn't need to be absolutely good to be good and it certainly wasn't the time to show him Sirius' darker side. Much darker side.

_With a frustrated sigh, he raked a hand through his gray-streaked hair, wondering whether Severus and he would ever be able to talk beyond the sniping that characterized their current conversations. He even wondered if things hadn't turned out the way they had, could they have…_

Probably not. 

Severus never took the easy choices. 

Remus suddenly felt tired and drained. The day had been long, filled with furtive glances, running, and finally, the meeting with Harry who Sirius hadn't seen face-to-face for over a year. Remus couldn't help but smile softly at the image of Sirius taking his godson into his arms, wrapping the child – no, more like young man now – tightly in his arms, never wanting to let go. 

Remus was glad to see Harry too, but for Sirius, Harry was special. Not just in the The-Boy-Who-Lived special. Harry was Sirius's last link to James (1). Undoubtedly, Sirius could once more feel that he was back at Hogwarts, forgetting those twelve years of damnation, twelve years of torture in Azkaban.

A bitter smile suddenly twisted its way onto Remus's face. A shocking expression since he was normally always mild looking, gentle even. But the ghastly grin spoke of pain, hatred, loathing, and disgust.

_Amazing. In the end, even when we all broke up for thirteen years. The survivors all ended up back at the same place._

He was speaking about themselves of course. James… dead. Lily… dead. Peter… traitor. Sirius… innocently maligned. Severus… completely changed. Himself… 

_Hogwarts really turned out its children well, didn't it?_

With a disheartened sigh, he glanced around the dimly lit room once more before quietly exiting. He needed to speak to Sirius about his behavior in the castle for the next few days. It was a godsend that he would be able to spend time at Hogwarts with Severus; he wasn't about to have Sirius or anyone ruin it. 

~*~ FINIS: Part One ~*~

Only one part of many. The next thing will probably come out in a few days. Depends on my mood and stuff. ^__^ And yes, it'll be a gory of slashiness soon. This is just a prepping chapter. By the way, ya'll should know that Pansy is one of my favorite Slytherins next to Draco and Blaise. 

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Authors Note:

This line is taken directly from JayKay's fic "Wicked Game I". It perfectly suits what I think Sirius thinks of James and Harry. Hope you don't mind!

Demeter


	2. An Armful Of Flowers

**La Symphonie d'Amour**

**Demeter**

**Part 2: An Armful of Flowers**

**Warnings:** slash, angst, dark, humor, romance, SS/RL, HP/DM, RW/HG, PW/OW, and whatever other couples I decide to throw at ya'll

**Archive:** Someone suggested I do this: Anywhere as long as Snape's beloved. Just drop me an e-mail so I know where. 

**Disclaimer:** All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic are copyright of Demeter.

**Thanks to Zebee for betaing this fic! You're the Goddess!**

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hogwarts had seen many pranksters, many Head Boys, many Quidditch champions throughout it's long, long history. There was no doubt that there were more powerful wizards before Voldemort and there was no doubt that in the future, more evil wizards or witches would vie for the position as 'Lord' of the wizard community. 

But even so, many considered Voldemort's silent reign one of the most horrific periods in the wizarding annals of history. The every day doses of death were constant and for more than one, fear of their lives dripped from every nuance of their daily routine. 

The usage of the Unforgivable Curses had caused the rooms in St. Mungo's to be filled with their victims. The cells in Azkaban shrieked with screams and insane laughing. Those were some of the casualties of the First Wave (as many who believed he had returned, were apt to divide the parts of Voldemort's reign). 

And the Second Wave was still continuing. 

With Harry Potter smack-dab in the middle. 

He was a boy still. Only seventeen and he was battling the 'ultimate' evil that had come to his hands at the tender age of one. But Harry didn't complain. He had his fortune, his friends, his school, his quidditch, even his soul mate. How could he whine about anything else? 

Besides, he was a very astute young man; even if he did complain, nothing would have come of it. Best to take on the oddly muggle-like quote of his boyfriend, "If life hands you lemons, make lemonade out of them". 

Draco had the oddest fancies with the muggle world sometimes. 

"Harry?"

The aforementioned boy twisted around to see Hermione flipping absently through a thick, leather-bound book, her eyes glued on the clock opposite his head. She had insisted they go to the library that day; but it seemed that even she wasn't much in the mood for studying. 

"What?"

"Are you absolutely sure you want to hold your wedding at Hogsmeade? I mean, I was thinking more of a floral church theme… or why not here at Hogwarts? There would be all those nostalgic connotations." Hermione gave up all pretense of reading and now was sitting forward earnestly, all her attention focused on the day when she could see Harry and Draco walk down the aisle together. 

Together. 

Hermione could admit to feeling doubt, horror, and dismay when Harry broke to her and Ron about his relationship with Mal – Draco now – before Christmas. Consequently, Ron had spent his yuletide cheer staring into space with a horrified glint in his eyes. Even with her own misgivings, she enjoyed torturing him with unwelcome mental images of Harry and Draco snogging each other. 

Snickering now, she ignored the look of 'are you insane' being passed to her by Harry. She stretched in her chair, wistfully wondering if Ron would ever propose to her. She didn't have the doubt that they would get married someday. It was like… well, it was like Harry's parents. From what she learned from Remus and Sirius was that Lily and James had been destined for each other; insomuch that they had acted like a married couple from sixth year on. 

"What's so funny?" Harry asked, his face wrinkling with curiosity.

"Nothing much. Still wondering whether we should order lilies or chrysanthemums… what does Draco want?" For all the blonde's participation in the actual wedding preparations, it would seem more like Hermione was the one getting married to Harry… blushing at the thought, she turned her attention to Harry.

He waved his hand vaguely at her words and muttered absently, "No chrysanthemums. They mean slighted love."

Hermione blinked. 

"They mean _what_?"

Harry looked up from his preoccupied state and furrowed his forehead. "What did I say?"

"You just said that chrysanthemums meant slighted love!" (1)

Harry paused, and then flushed a vivid red. Muttering, he said, "Er… Draco told me. He's developed this weird obsession for flowers."

There was a moment of silence before Hermione burst into laughter. The idea of Draco Malfoy, Mister-I-am-beautiful-and-perfect-so-bow-and-lick-my-boots being into something as trivial as flowers seemed to be the ultimate antithesis. Gathering her books and ignoring the withering scowl Harry cast her, she racked her mind for a few more details. 

"Well, then I'll leave the flowers to Draco and make arrangements for the rest. I know Sirius and Remus will want to help." Hermione waited for the predictable grin that always came to Harry's face when his godfather was mentioned. Sirius had come in earlier that week, surprising Harry and Ron while they were working on their homework. She had been practicing her charms in a corner of the room when she had spied Sirius and Remus sneak in quietly as man and dog. 

Her first reaction was to squeal, but Remus had placed a finger to his lips. Ron had also noticed them, but Harry was too preoccupied with Snape's essay on "The Ten Uses of Gillyweed" so very specially assigned to him. Seeing no one else around, Sirius had shifted back to his human form, his gaunt face seeming to fill with flesh under the soft pleasure of seeing his only godson. 

"Harry."

She remembered how Harry had frozen, his robes stilling and his shoulders growing rigid. She remembered how he had turned toward Sirius and Remus so slowly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing. 

And she remembered, with startling clarity, of just how young Harry looked at that moment, the lines of early trials and tribulations finally smoothing away in pure, unadulterated joy of seeing Sirius. Harry had bolted toward Sirius and wrapped hungry arms around his godfather, his face hiding in the crook of Sirius' neck, where a much younger version of himself had been cradled.

Years ago.  

Hermione had felt perilously close to tears after she, Ron, and Remus had exited quietly, knowing that Harry needed to be alone with Sirius for a few precious moments. They had conversed quietly outside the portrait, their eyes watchful for other students who might have been returning late from the library or elsewhere. Mostly they spoke of the upcoming marriage, making no references to the absolute danger of it. 

There were the Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort, and so many who wanted either one or both dead. Hermione was surprised that so far no mishaps had been reported. Even Rita Skeeter, under a dire threat from Hermione, was behaving quietly. 

Hermione sighed. 

It was really unfair sometimes. She could see hundreds, maybe even thousands of couples go from dating to love without any of the problems Harry and Draco had to take on. Draco was still receiving howlers once in a while, each wailing about how his "Slytherin Evil" was destroying The Boy Who Lived. 

The first howler had ignited a wave of fury from Harry. That was the only time she could remember Harry getting so angry. He had taken it personally and issued a scathing statement to the press that basically consisted of "Leave us alone you vultures". 

Nodding to Harry, she exited the library, intent of going back to the Gryffindor tower, when she spotted Remus walking toward the dungeons. She paused, indecision warring within her. There had to be a reason why he would venture anywhere near Snape's lair… and she knew he couldn't be going back to his rooms. Didn't he say earlier that Dumbledore wanted him out on the grounds as much as possible outside of meals? She supposed she should follow quietly and offer backup in case Snape decided to get nasty. 

Hermione winced. 

As Snape probably would. The man had been horribly malicious lately. Even to Draco. 

The first dinner with Remus back had been a strained, nasty little affair. All the Houses had been unnaturally quiet at the glowering stance Snape had adopted. Even moreso at the constant growling of the 'pet dog Lupin had brought to Hogwarts'. Eventually, Snape had stormed off at a comment from Professor Vector (Hermione could swear she saw an evil grin on her usually-stern Professor's face). He wasn't missed much, but his presence was still definitely tangible.

Hermione sighed. Everyone knew that he hated Remus… but there were only a few who knew why. They whole Whomping Willow incident was probably playing fresh in the git's mind. A bloody good mind, but a git's mind all the same.

Shifting her books into a neat stack by a suit of armor, she slithered quietly behind Remus, making sure to remain a good distance away. His being a werewolf undoubtedly gave him a keen sense of smell and she didn't particularly feel like testing it out at the moment. 

He paused in front of the oak door that was ominously shut and she could see him hesitate before it, as if debating whether to actually knock or just leave and let sleeping dogs sleep.

Hermione started.__

_Where in the world did that come from?_

But apparently he had more courage then she did, because he raised one hand and rapped his knuckles on the wood. There was a short moment of silence before the doors creaked open in protest, their hinges groaning about being moved. 

Snape peered out, his black eyes immediately zeroing on Remus' slight figure. His face broke into a dark scowl and he said something Hermione couldn't hear but could imagine to be rather belittling judging from the shadow that passed over Remus' face. He said something back that Snape waved his hand irritably to before attempting to go back to his rooms. 

Then Remus did something that made Hermione want to gasp. He clasped one hand on Snape's arm, his face entreating. Snape had snapped his head at Remus before narrowing his eyes. His lips curled into a snarl and he rather violently shook his arm away and finally, within a wisp of wind that was traveling from the dungeons, she heard, "Stop pretending Lupin! It's never going to be the same again!" 

Now she did gasp, but luckily, they were so preoccupied with each other, that they didn't notice the small shadow scrunch even smaller as her eyes glued itself to the two figures. 

Remus murmured something that left a storm cloud on Snape's face, one that nearly made Hermione back away, even when it wasn't directed at her. She strained to listen to his reply, but all she could make out was, "Don't… stupid… werewolf!" The last word seemed to be spat out and then he closed the door firmly on Remus' face. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Remus stood there for long moments and never noticed Hermione steal away, her entire frame shaking. 

He was far too occupied with morose and rather depressing thoughts. 

_So it seems that Severus won't even talk to me._

A sigh that curled from his toes to his lips escaped and once more, Remus found himself walking up toward the main hall, alone. __

_Always alone._

He had tried to coax Severus into coming to dinner with him; he had observed that ever since he and Sirius had arrived, Severus was noticeably absent during most meals. The meals he was at, he pretended Remus didn't exist and that the big, black dog next to him was merely an illusion. 

The students had begun to gossip, undoubtedly because Snape had always belittled the past Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. It was unlike him to completely ignore the new one. 

All in all, Remus felt a bit depressed. He was used to people ignoring him, belittling him, or even outwardly hating him… but it was different with Severus. Maybe because Remus could remember better days, days when they hadn't been so willing to forget a friendship forged under the most unlikely circumstances. A brief, melancholy smile flitted across his face. Undoubtedly, even the most mundane memories held brief wisps of friendship between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor.

~*~

_"Damn." James turned at the sound of books being dropped and saw that the pile Remus had been carrying in a precarious balance had finally toppled to the floor, books scattering in a flutter of yellowed pages. _

_He was about to move back to help Remus when the tawny-eyed boy waved him off. "Go back to the common room. I'll be after you."_

_James gave him a doubtful look, but dutifully went toward Gryffindor Tower with the intent of coming back to help Remus. But first, to look in on Lily…_

_Remus sighed and resumed stacking the books into a nice pile. He knew he should have been less greedy and settled for a smaller stack instead of insisting on taking them all. Madam Pince had warned him about being so eager. _

_He staggered up and under the weight; he thought for a moment that everything would fall once more. But he was far luckier this time; the books stayed in their perch, he kept upright, and he continued on his way toward Gryffindor Tower. _

_"No, Lucius."_

_Remus stopped and his wolf senses immediately zeroing onto the alcove where the murmur had come from. Forgetting about the pressing weight of the books, he strained his eyes, and through the shadowy curtains, he could make out two figures facing each other, talking in low, but heated voices. _

_Shifting the books to the ground, he moved toward them, his glide silent and completely unheard. There were a few advantages of being a wolf and this was one of them: the ability to move without anyone noticing that he was in the vicinity. _

_"I told you already, Lucius. No."_

_"Severus. Consider it. No matter what, consider it."_

_Remus finally knew who these two were. Severus he knew of course; the fifth year Slytherin student had been asked to tutor him in Potions. It wasn't that Remus was incapable of learning that particular branch of music. His wolf senses made his nose sensitive and at times, the ingredients for various potions was nauseating. Therefore, some of the more advanced potions had to be learnt by rote as he watched Severus concoct them. With that, he managed to scrape by in Potions. To the Slytherin, the problem was easily explained away by allergies. _

_And of course Lucius Malfoy, the cold, arrogant, aloof, undisputed lord of Slytherin house, regardless that he was only a sixth year._

_Remus watched curiously as Severus turned a whiter shade of pale and start hissing intelligibly to the older Slytherin. He leaned in a bit closer to listen. _

_"Lucius, if you believe for one moment I would even trust you, you're idiotically mistaken."_

_There was a pause then an amused laugh. "Really, Severus? Then you don't believe me when I say that Dumbledore's an old fool and there will be no chance in hell he'll give Slytherins the chance?"_

_Remus could see Snape's jaw clench and then something interesting happened._

_"I doubt you're much of a judge, Malfoy." With that, he tossed a terribly enigmatic smile at his 'friend' and marched out amid a royal flutter of black and green robes. Remus pressed himself back against the wall and watched as Lucius exited swearing and sweeping past Severus violently. Remus could almost imagine hearing the usually indifferent boy snarling. _

_As soon as Lucius had disappeared, Snape seemed to deflate. He leaned against the nearest wall and held his hair away from his face, the weary lines appearing from nowhere. Snape knocked his head lightly against the wall and muttered, "Fool," below his breath._

_At that exact moment, James decided to show up again. _

_"Hey, Remus, I'm back to…" His voice trailed off when he saw Snape standing rigidly, his body snapping to attention at the sound of one his enemy Gryffindor voices. _

_"Er… hey Snape."_

_"Potter." Snape nodded barely a fraction of an inch before something akin to a suspicious light started rolling in his eyes. "Did you say Lupin?"_

_"Uh, yeah. He was here waiting for me to help bring some books up."_

_Snape's eyes narrowed and he turned around. With his concentration focused on Remus, he easily found the boy hiding in the corner. _

_Remus 'eeped'. _

_There was rage mottling Snape's face and for a moment, Remus was afraid that he would be hexed in one way or another. James looked between the two, seemed to figure something out on his own, then chuckled. _

_The two turned to him with near-identical looks of bewilderment. He clapped his hands together and then started jogging back toward the Gryffindor Tower. "Well, I'll leave the two of you together."_

_Remus could scarcely believe his ears. James had just *left* him there?_

_"Well, Lupin. Look at this. It seems that I have a spy."_

_"Er, Severus… I didn't mean to overhear anything. It was purely an accident."_

_"Oh? Then kindly explain why you're scrunched in a corner."_

_"…I'm practicing my slinking?"_

_Snape snorted and then stalked over, his face as unreadable as before. He stuck out a hand and Remus stared at it in bafflement. What was he supposed to do? Allow Snape to chuck him into oblivion? _

_With an exasperated sigh, Snape grabbed Remus' hand and tugged him up. _

_Oh._

_Muttering thanks, Remus stood and brushed the dust off his robes. Flashing a semi-brilliant smile, he said, "You know Severus, I never knew you had such a soft side."_

_He got the desired response as Snape reddened at the sly undertone of the seemingly innocent remark. With a withering glance, he stooped to gather some of the books Remus had and then snorted as he bothered to read the titles._

_"Bloody hell Lupin. These books are worthless." He regarded them with distaste and then placed them gingerly in Remus' waiting arms. _

_With a sigh, he said, "As well stocked Hogwarts is, it's distinctively lacking in books beyond the dry, educational kind."_

_"So you had to resort to reading 'Conspiracies of the Hogwart's Ghosts'?"_

_"Er… I think that one's James."_

_"Ah yes. Famous Potter."_

_With minor rebuke coloring his face, Remus shifted the books into a more comfortable position and started walking, his voice chattering about various items of interest in the local gossip circles. Outwardly, Snape professed little interest for the petty news of Hogwarts, but Remus knew that he stored and filed the information away carefully. Eventually, he found some useful way of exercising the tidbits. _

_Remus was more than glad to help; several people had become 'better' people because of Snape's meddling. _

_And through the rest of the afternoon, they passed it peacefully by arguing the merits of Lily and James dating. _

~*~

Remus sighed. 

Years ago. That had happened years and years ago. Sometimes he wondered wearily if anything was worth going so far back. What little of his memories that wasn't ruined by the lingering black cloud of loathing and hatred that had permeated his life after the Shrieking Shack incident, was now tainted with Peter

The 'incident'.

The one event that had completely stripped the bare elements of trust away from his and Severus' relationship. What little they had in the first place. From then on to now, they had goaded each other with taunts, pain-filled screams, and attempts to protect while simultaneously attacking. 

It hadn't been a particularly good two years. And the fact that Remus had had to endure the anxious glances of James and Lily, arrogant snorts of Sirius, even the pitying looks of Peter, made it no better. All he had wanted was to talk to Severus about that night, apologize for that night… he had entertained thoughts of taking Sirius with him and chaining the boy to the wall… just to prove to Severus that he had hated Sirius for it as much as him.

Hated while hiding those darkest thoughts.

Sleepless nights had plagued his sixth and seventh year. The Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry had grown to intense proportions. Even though Snape had been forbidden from telling anyone that Remus was a werewolf, the story of the 'golden Gryffindor four' playing a horrible 'prank' on Snape had leaked out. No doubt Sirius, insufferably proud of the fact, couldn't resist telling everyone a revised version. 

And Remus could still vividly remember the hushed derision directed at the Slytherins afterwards. Many of the younger Slytherin students couldn't understand why Sirius had not been punished… and many grew embittered from the fact. Never mind that Snape should have been done justice, but Slytherin had been stripped of fifty points while they were at it! 

Remus had hated those days, the dark days when many of the Slytherins had withdrew from school, each time saying goodbye to the Gryffindor 'Boy-Gods' (2) with spit on the floor, with an accompanying litany of curses, hexes, bitter words. He could still see a girl who Sirius had 'bedded' and then abandoned amid jeers of that she 'was the Slytherin slut'. 

She had come forth, her eyes dark and burning with hatred. With barely a pause, she had pulled her wand out, pointed at Sirius' heart, causing the Gryffindors around him to gasp and pull out their own wands. 

And he remembered her words.

_"Someday, Black, I'll get my own back. I swear on the House of Slytherin, on the Four Founders, on my mother's grave, that you'll get what you deserve for all you've done."_

She had then pushed her wand so hard into his chest, that sparks had flown out and burned his beautiful face. Sirius had yelped and snarled for someone to give him his wand. She had been  far too quick however. Moving at speed that Remus didn't remember her having previously, she had cast a body-bind on him and with a muffled curse, he had toppled over. Peter had rushed over to help him, but the damage had been done. 

She had exited laughing… and Remus could swear that it was actually sobbing. 

Things had changed after that. Remus found himself growing distant from James, Peter, even Lily. As for Sirius, Remus was unable to speak to the popular boy without the horrible sensation of wanting to retch. 

And of course that, he thought bitterly, was the turning point. 

Sirius considered him – _the werewolf, the dark beast_ – the traitor. 

He persuaded James to switch the secret-keeper from himself to Peter instead of the logical choice of Remus. 

He hadn't told Remus because he thought Remus was the turncoat. 

Peter had betrayed James. 

No one knew. 

Voldemort killed James and Lily.

He in turn was 'killed' by some strange force Harry controlled. 

No one knew that the one who had been the traitor was actually Peter. 

Not even Dumbledore. 

Sirius didn't have the protection Severus had. 

Sirius realized that Peter had betrayed James and Lily. 

He went after Peter. 

Peter tricked the entire magical community. 

He faked his own death.

Screamed those damning words, 'Sirius! How could you? James and Lily!'

Blew up his wand. 

Killed thirteen muggles. 

Turned into a rat – _once again, the Animagus causes trouble_ – and escaped. 

Sirius had been accused.

He had pleaded his innocence, screamed about the real betrayal. 

No one had believed him. 

He had gone to Azkaban without a trial. 

And Remus had found himself in a world unfriendly toward werewolves, had lost all his real friends in the space of one night, had discovered that the 'Gryffindor golden boy' who had ruined his life in the first place had been the true traitor. 

Snape had been right for the longest time. 

During the winter of their seventh year he had, completely under the hands of fate and coincidences, met up with Snape in the darkened hallways during dinner, when everyone else was eating and laughing… he and Snape had happened across each other, both tired beyond repair, both ebbing at their lowest points. 

And he had tried – he really did – to apologize. 

_"Black will betray you again. One day, he'll show everyone what he's really like. Black, Potter, Pettigrew, you… all of you will fall and then I'll laugh. I'll laugh because I was the one to know from the beginning that he was evil."_

Severus had swept off, his dark robes billowing much like how it fluttered now… Remus gave a brief, humorless smile. Even then, Severus had been prone to dramatics. Not as much now. The pain had been too raw when they had haunted the hallways as students, but time had a way of assuaging it into a long-simmering hate. 

Hate for the werewolf that nearly killed him.

Hate for the boy-god who had sent him to his near-death.

Loathing himself for his journey into the dark resulting from that incident. 

In the end, they still came back to Dumbledore. Remus had made it a point of keeping some tabs on Snape through the thirteen-some years they hadn't seen each other. He knew that the Daily Prophet had announced that Snape was taking over the position of Head of Slytherin House and the title of Potions Master at Hogwarts. He had heard the rumors, the gossip, the horrible accusations of treachery and writhing blackness that people said lurked within Snape.

And he believed and yet, did not believe. 

He didn't know what to believe. 

Remus sighed. That was the past. This was the present. It would do no good to whine and bitch about what had happened and what might have been. Shrugging his sore shoulders, he moved back to the Grand Hall, needing nourishment in his body. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione came rushing back into the library, her books still cradled precariously in her arms. Her hair had escaped its messy ponytail and was now flying everywhere. He looked up from his book, now annoyed at being interrupted for the second time that day. Really, no one could get work done in the library anymore!

"Shh!" Madam Pince glared at them from her desk, before resuming her methodical stamping of returned books.

"Harry." Hermione's voice was now lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "You won't believe what I just saw."

"What?"

"Remus and Snape!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Er… That's important how?"

Hermione waved aside his confusion and leaned in. Her eyes were sparking with an intense interest and for a moment, Harry was reminded of her obsession with House Elves during their fourth year. 

"Snape and Remus… I think… Harry… I'm pretty sure they're like you and Draco!"

Harry's mouth dropped open and all he could do was gape at the sudden sentence. Like him and Draco? Remus and… Snape? That was completely bizarre. Then he considered him and Draco. They had hated each other for so long. And then all the sudden, the loathing had turned to passion and eventually love. If he thought about it carefully, it wasn't much stranger than him and Draco.

But Remus… and _Snape._

It was like an antithesis of all that was right.

"Hermione… are you sure? I mean… this is _Snape_ we're talking about!" He still couldn't completely wrap his mind around the dizzying concept of Professor Snape with Professor Lupin. _Though the thought's rather kinky_

Harry paused. 

He decided not to dwell on that particular thought. Draco would castrate him if he knew.

"Harry! You are blind, aren't you? I can't believe Draco was right!" Hermione huffed before going on. "And besides, if you and Draco can get together, then anyone on the sodding planet can! And think about it! It makes sense! Professor Snape and Remus acted so weird toward each other third year. Remember? There was all that history. I bet my final exams that Sirius was the reason they split up!"

"Sirius? Why would Siri… Oh."

Hermione grinned. "'Oh' is right. The Shrieking Shack incident where Sirius almost killed Professor Snape. It probably triggered something. I've been trying to do connections for the past few minutes and I think that the reason why Sirius didn't make Remus the Secret Keeper is because Remus was in love with Professor Snape and Sirius thought Remus was in league with You-Know-Who!" She finished triumphantly, her eyes gleaming.

"Hermione. I'd hate to burst your bubble but… is this based on fact or is it just your own theory?"

There was a pause and she completely deflated. "Well, it's mostly just speculation. But it would make so much sense… and Harry! Think about how romantic that is!" She beamed widely, her face shining and her eyes going to a hazy sort of mistiness. "Two enemies separated by house, separated by years, separated by friends. Then to find each other again after thirteen, fourteen years! It doesn't get any better than that!"

Harry frowned. "When I told you and Ron about Draco and me, you weren't this thrilled."

"You and Draco are different." 

"How so? He's Slytherin. I'm Gryffindor. We hated each other for years. Then we got together. What's not the same?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose a bit, before saying, "I'm sorry Harry, but you and Draco… well, you guys are just too cliché. I mean, teenagers. Different houses. Too Romeo and Juliet for my taste." (3)

With an affronted look on his face, he set his book down and said rather huffily, "Well, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you thought our relationship was so cliché and boring."

Hermione giggled. "Harry! You know I didn't mean it that way! I just think that Professor Snape and Remus have a longer relationship that's based on something other than lust…" She paused at the sulky expression on Harry's face and then hastily added, "Not that you and Draco aren't together because of love, because I am totally supporting you and I think you guys are in love… and I think I'll shut up now."

There was a moment of appraising silence as Harry gazed at her. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair before risking a glance at his shuttered face. Then it broke into a large grin. He swung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Hermione smiled softly and allowed him to pull the two of them together. Their foreheads touching, Harry asked with a serious tone in his voice, "Should we get them together?"

"I don't think so." Now Hermione sounded rather discouraged. "Snape didn't seem… too receptive to Remus' words. I didn't catch it all… but I think there's something going on between the two of them that's not resolved."

"What do you mean?"

"They're… Oh, Harry, I don't know. When I saw them together, I just got the most awful feeling. It wasn't nice and friendly, I can tell you that."

Harry's eyebrow furrowed. "Nice and friendly? That can't be used to describe Snape even if he and Remus were together."

"You know what I mean. But… I think I want to nudge Professor Snape in the right direction."

"What do you mean by nudge?" He asked, his voice curious.

With an evil grin, Hermione leaned over and whispered her master plan into his ear. 

Harry gaped at her, his face twitching. "You're insane!"

"I said the same thing about you and Draco when you told us and look how you two turned out."

Pausing to concede, Harry wondered out loud, "But this is _Snape._ You seem to keep forgetting that. I mean… even if it does work, think about what he'll do to us afterwards."

With a giggle, she replied, "If things go my way, he'll be too busy snogging Remus to have anything to do with us."

His face going a strange gray pallor, Harry swallowed. "I just got the strangest mental image."

"I know… isn't it cute?" Hermione sighed romantically and gazed dreamily at her inner image of Severus Snape and Remus Lupin making love on a rug. In front of a hearth fire. With whipped cream. And chocolate. And maraschino cherries. (4) Her face flushed to a delicate pink and Harry goggled at her before shaking his head. 

"I don't know what it's about with girls thinking about two guys shagging. I mean, it's like all they can do is to have indecent fantasies about us… did you know that Hannah Abbot asked Draco and me to pose together shirtless? She offered to buy us all the Honeyduke candies we wanted!"

Hermione laughed and in a mock co-conspirator voice, she said, "It was all us seventh-year girls pooling together money and resources. The daughter of the Honeyduke owner promised us a discount if we got her a copy." She burst into quiet peals of laughter at Harry's contorted expression and then patted his cheek. "Don't worry. We won't attack the two of you in the middle of the night. Even Lavender hasn't gotten to that point." 

"Lavender?!"

"She and Parvarti have developed their own obsession with you two. It's quite sweet to see them working out various plans to catch the two of you snogging." 

Harry's horrified expression was almost too classic and Hermione had to press her lips together to prevent herself from going into hysterics. 

"They… They're not spying on us are they?"

"Oh, no… but I wouldn't shag Draco anywhere near Gryffindor Tower." With that airy reply, she sauntered off, her mind busily making plans about who to get involved in "Operation Snog". Ron obviously, though she would have to persuade him with a few kisses and coy looks. Not to mention a bit of puppy-eye pleading. And Ginny; there wasn't anyone else in the school who could run circles around people – men – better than she could. 

Draco could help quite a bit; he was after all, Snape's favorite student. And… Hermione then frowned, her countenance going troubled. Sirius was at the school also and that would present a few problems she didn't quite know how to deal with. Perhaps if Harry talked to his godfather… after all, Sirius would do anything for Harry. 

There was also the problem of making sure to do this without any of the 'questionable' members of Slytherin House noticing. Not to mention Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Ever since she had overheard Draco murmuring to Harry about Pansy's defection from You-Know-Who's side, she had been wondering whether their old innate prejudices against Slytherin had caused a backlash of being unable to see those who supported You-Know-Who in other houses…

There was a hesitation in her thoughts. 

So far, she didn't know much of Pansy's involvement in The Order of the Phoenix yet. They hadn't had another meeting since December and she had learned about Pansy's induction a little after Christmas. Hermione had rather mixed feelings about the Slytherin girl. Pansy had once been her main antagonist… with a brief smile, she realized that so had Draco. He still was… but it was in that friendly way that she knew was Malfoy. Any other way and it wouldn't have been the boy Harry fell in love with.

And she didn't give up all hope that someday he would stop insulting her. 

But _Pansy._

Here, it got a little bit personal. The girl had made fun of every aspect of her personality and brains. As for her physical appearance, there hadn't been one insult Hermione hadn't heard from her hair to her teeth. Not only had it been an extremely enlightening experience, but also Hermione had developed a rather strange fixation on brushing her teeth three times a day and using a wizard-concocted intense conditioner. 

And now Pansy Parkinson was part of The Order of the Phoenix.

I wonder whether she'll be at the next meeting. There was one scheduled in a week, but did… could Dumbledore really trust a Slytherin?

Musing, she worked her way back to Gryffindor Tower, a very specific plan starting to take root in her illustrious mind. Once this was over, Hermione would make sure Professor Snape came to class everyday with a flushed face and a leering smirk. 

And if things didn't go her way, there would be hell to pay.

~*~ FINIS ~*~

A/N:

1. Chrysanthemums mean slighted love, yes, but it also depends on which one. Only certain kinds mean Draco's slighted love ^__^, and some have much darker ones. But don't take my word for it! *wink*

2. The term 'boy-gods' is partially in reference to how her2eternity describes the Marauders during their days at Hogwarts to Snape. She has an excellent series called "The Lovers Quartet'. One of my favorites if anyone's wondering. This is a nod to a great series.  

3. I love Harry and Draco. Don't get me wrong. The ones that are well-written, they're fantastic. However, there are enough fics that are so badly executed that I've become rather wary of this pairing. My own personal little pet peeve in fics. ^__^

4. Maraschino cherries. A homage to end of a great fic. *pauses* Let us have a moment of silence for Sushi's Harry/Snape epic, "Civil War". *bows head* Damn, I really like that fic. *wipes tears away* 

Since this story was intended to be light-hearted in a way, I've decided to put little homage's, nods, references, etc. etc. to my favorite fics and moments in fics. It'll be explained at the end of each chapter, and I hope this free plugging will get them read and encouraged to write more fics!

Reviewers:

**Elizabeth:** I actually don't hate Valentine's Day. I just think it's a useless day of prejudice and biases. ^__^ I captured Snape well? *beams* You don't know how much that means to me!

**Glimmermaid:** Pansy is my favorite Slytherin next to Severus and Draco after all. 

**Nostradamus:** I can do fluff, but I do angst and Snape-characterization so much better. ^__^. That's actually one of my favorite lines too. I suppose it arises from my own bitterness about how shoddy Slytherins are treated.

**J:** Thank you! I have actually changed it due to your and several other peoples suggestions.

**Tinderblast:** *grins* It's because of your pieces of advice that I changed betas, reedited the fic four times, and now… I'm all-happy! Unfortunately, no, this does not tie in with 'Her, Amid The Slytherins'. That particular fic is written parallel to the books and I have no intention yet of deviating off the canon events (not yet anyway). So if Pansy becomes a Death Eater, I'll be going along for the ride… of course, if I'm intensely unhappy with what Rowling does I may stray from the paved road… otherwise, probably not. You like Remus and Severus? ^__^. As do I!

**Lexin:** Snapey eh? *beams* Now that's a compliment. As long as Snape is written correctly enough that other people like him, I'll be a melting mass of gooey happiness. As for the author's notes; took those out and put them at the end!

**Akutuin:** I love Snape and will love him until the end of time… unless Rowling kills him off. Then I intend to have Harry or Remus go to the underworld to retrieve him. ^__^. I figured that Harry and Draco needed some sort of happy ending due to the fact that so many people put them through agonizing amounts of pain. 

**Emma**: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Melodie**: I will. I intend to finish if not do several spin-offs too. 

**Zukatze:** Naming a character after me? *shrieks* I love you! It'll be such an honor! *grins* Who else would I hook Snape up with? I'm a split Harry/Draco and Harry/Snape shipper, but since I prefer to have everyone have someone, I can put Harry with Draco, and Snape with Remus. And besides, Snape and Remus have all that history; makes it extremely fun to torture them with memories. 

**Zebee:** That's why I like her. Any girl who's forced to play 'prop' has my sympathy. It's hard to be a female who's family expects you to marry high. *makes face* Especially if she doesn't want to, but has no idea of what to do. My whole belief in the relationship between Snape and Dumbledore is this: Dumbledore, in Snape's eyes, is his savior, his salvation. Which is why he will probably do anything for the Headmaster. 

**Youko Gingitsune:** Sorry for the slow update. I was dealing with my g-pa's funeral and things got lagged behind. I love Sevvie and Remus too. Aren't they just adorable? *beams*

**Lothlorien:** Thank you! I've read some of your fics and it's a great compliment to have you think my fic is partially good. ^__^

**Bwaybaby79:** Due to a few early fanfics that I read, that image of Draco as feminine will never leave my mind. It's like indelibly sketched there. I think Pansy has potential and I want to stretch that potential before Rowling decides to cast all the Slytherins as the bad guys… I'll be awfully disappointed with her if she does, but it won't be completely unexpected. 

**Leenk:** Well, I got into Remus/Snape fics due to another writer, so I'm not surprised that it's not original. But I'd like to think that I've added in my own style and mixed it up with furor. ^__^. Favorites? Thank you!

**Daybreak-impression:** Well, to prove that love can be spread in the strangest ways, I love you too! ^__^ Snape and Remus are my absolute favorite slash couple at the moment. (emphasis on 'at the moment'. I like to leave myself room for change) They have all this potential that's not explored in the canon books that I'd like to see… though I doubt Rowling will ever introduce any of her characters into slash situations. Pity. Fred and Draco? Hm, I'll have to pop over and read it. The twins get around don't they? And thank you!

**Slytherin Mud Blood:** Or AKA Aria, right? ^__^ Thanks for IMing me! I love slash too. It gives me a ton of freedom over what I write and who I choose to write about. Of course, I'm also a major lover of Draco/Ginny and Hermione/Snape fics. *pauses* I hope I don't get in trouble with the R/H and H/H shippers out there when I say that. I like those two a lot, but it has to be under the right situation.

Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers! 

And review more! I live for them!

BTW, to make a thing clear to a certain reviewer of some of my other Slytherin fics, who shall remain nameless. I don't care if you don't like Slytherins. I really don't. But if you have a problem with them, I suggest that you don't bother me about it. I'm not known for having the calmest temper. And when confronted with another sneering Gryffindor about Slytherin, I won't be inclined to be nice as I normally would be if you had calmly explained your reasons instead of screaming about how 'Slytherins suck'. 

Anyway, I love Snape. Plain and simple. 

Demeter


	3. Walking Through The Fire

**Title:** "La Symphonie d'Amour – Part (3/?)

**Author:** Demeter

**Warnings:** Slash, RL/SS, DM/HP, OW/PW, HG/RW and any other couples I throw in just for fun! Angst, dark, sometimes fluffy, sometimes squicky. 

**NOTE:** This is the second edition of Part Three! There's an extra bit in the conversation Arabella and Dumbledore has over Severus, and I edited some mistakes. A slightly better read!

**This is for Sushi, who agrees with me that Hermione should have partially been a Slytherin! **

**Disclaimer:** All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic are copyright of Demeter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

With a frustrated sigh, Draco Malfoy tossed his books onto his silk-encased bed, ignoring the odd looks his Slytherin roommates were throwing at him from the corners of their eyes. His characteristically moody thoughts were starting to surface more and more steadily. Even with his father – _no, Lucius now_ – being hunted down by the Ministry, every moment felt tense with suppressed worry. Lucius was ruthless, ambitious, and more intelligent then anyone could care to imagine.

Draco knew.

Hogwarts wasn't safe for him. If there were a way, any way at all, then Lucius would rout, disarm, and then sweep in with careless ease. He had the natural knack for getting his way into and out of anything.

Which worried Draco.

Not so much for himself, but for Harry. Lucius would want his son, his heir, his possession back. He would devise ways of making sure that Draco would listen to him. And Draco didn't doubt that those plans would involve Harry in one way or another.

_I'll be damned if I allow anyone to hurt Harry._

His trademark smirk firmly back in place, he descended into the common room, where automatically, everyone sat up straight, stiffened, smiled, sneered or passed disinterest. Some were his friends. That he was sure. Others were neutral, waiting for the moment to decide which side to follow. Still a few were already belonged to Voldemort, body and soul. 

Slytherin House was a place of constant tension. Due to the fact that Dumbledore had placed extra spells over their tower, the followers of the Death Eaters had little choice but to wait out their school years. The last two years had been fraught with danger, as the people who were loyal to Dumbledore and the ones loyal to Voldemort split Slytherin House jaggedly down the middle. 

Draco had always known, on a vague level, that most of Slytherin House would turn toward Voldemort. He, himself, during his first, second, third, fourth, and fifth had thought he would follow his father. Draco had once worshipped the ground Lucius walked on. And he would have done anything, anything at all, if it were Lucius who had told him to. Not even his mother could have been able to dissuade her son from walking that paved path.

But then he and Harry had a chance meeting in the desolate and lonely fields of Hogwarts. 

They had exchanged their customary insults, jibes, and sneers. But, somehow, it was different without other people around them. The entire ritual seemed silly, boring. They had done it half-heartedly, and for some reason, they decided to sit down together and converse in the old-fashioned way. 

Soon, the little meetings had become a regular occurrence, floating throughout their fifth and sixth year. They rarely spoke about anything in Hogwarts; instead they chose to talk about the Muggle world, about the wizarding world, about anything and everything but their personal lives.

And slowly, without even realizing the implications, they had started enjoying each other's company. 

During the middle of sixth year, Draco had been summoned. 

By then, the seeds of doubt planted by Professor Snape, and nurtured by Harry, had sprung to full growth. He no longer believed everything his father told him, didn't want to believe. When he had refused to give Lucius Harry's blood, the world had nearly collapsed. He had managed to inform Dumbledore about what had happened before Lucius could strike. The ending result, after a bloody mess, was that Lucius had been placed on the 'wanted' list of the Ministry, Draco had inherited the Malfoy fortune, and Narcissa had died. 

Draco missed his mother. 

She had loved him dearly, and he had cared for her just as much. But she couldn't face the idea of him being bound to a Potter, couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to follow the Dark Lord. During the final attempt on his life, she had sacrificed herself for her son, knowing that with her husband wanted, her son bound to another, she had little left but her own maternal affections for Draco.

Lucius and Draco had shared a conversation before they had parted forever, one fraught with pain.

~*~

_"Draco. You have finally defied me." In ways Lucius hadn't been able to with his own father. _

_There was a long silence, stretched thin and delicate. They had watched each other with Death Eaters lurking behind Lucius, Aurors behind Draco. It had been a mutual agreement to have no blood shed that day. _

_Father and son needed one more conversation before they separated._

_"Father. In the end, I'm following the Malfoy doctrine."_

_"Yes." Lucius paused, his gray eyes flickering with a strange light. "The Malfoy doctrine. Repeat it once more."_

_"Malfoy's are strength. Both physically and mentally. The Malfoys will never fall. Will never fail. And they will always walk their own path, regardless of who they follow." The words were drawn from a wellspring of dulling memories, from a place where the words had been pushed, forced in._

_Lucius had smiled then, a twisted smile that bespoke of anger, pride, and most of all, bitterness. He loved his son. But he was still a Malfoy. He would not stand for his only heir to submit himself to the hands of Harry Potter, for his only son to be bound to another man. Nor did he wish to be hypocritical and follow the path of Dumbledore's. He was Lucius Malfoy, strong, ruthless, amoral, and true to himself. Muggles would be the death of the wizard community and nothing could change his mind. (1)_

"Very good, Draco. You've learned well." 

_With that, father and son had turned their backs on each other, knowing that this one, strangely tender scene, would be the starting point of a long, bloody battle. With Lucius trying to claim Draco back, with Draco fighting against his own father and heritage. _

_And they hadn't looked back._

~*~__

The grief could come later. After Lucius was dead or imprisoned in Azkaban. Then the sorrow would rise like demons from hell. A humorless smile crossed his pale features. Lucius had always insisted that Draco present the perfect façade of icy perfection. How proud would he be if he knew that he had succeeded in ways that were ingrained into his personality?

"Draco?" Startled from his thoughts, he turned to see Pansy, her dark blue eyes questioning. With a slight nod, the two descended down toward the Main Hall, where he had made arrangements with Harry to meet. Under the pretext of getting closer to Harry, Draco had persuaded Pansy, in full hearing capability of some of the new Death Eater recruits, of making 'friends' with Harry. This insured the idea that they were either out together, or at least, not with adults. 

If he was honest to himself, he knew he was a bit apprehensive. This would be the first time Pansy would be attending a meeting, and she had been unnaturally absent-minded all day.

He trusted her.

If he could trust anyone besides Harry or Professor Snape, he trusted her. If only for the fact that she was a Slytherin and had turned the same as he did. Though Professor Snape hadn't found it necessary to inform him of the circumstances surrounding her defection from Voldemort, he had asked discreetly around and discovered that she had been branded.

Branded like all Death Eaters.

Like he would have been if Harry hadn't…

Shaking that thought off, he wrapped pale fingers around his wand and clutched it tightly. Every witch or wizard worth their salt watched his or her back in Slytherin. There was no bitterness about that fact; it was a simple rendition of life in the 'dark' house of Hogwarts. 

Passing several paintings in the hallway on their way through the dungeons, a few smiled at him, knowing him well through his many trips. Of all the current Slytherins, Draco was their favorite. Partially because he had brought such 'glory' for Slytherin House. Catching The Boy Who Lived was an achievement that many were quite proud of. 

Pansy paused to whisper quietly with a tiny painting that had been stuck in a dusty corner. She had discovered the beautiful piece of art on one of her assorted trips through the dark and dank hallways outside Slytherin Tower. The thin and unsmiling woman talked in a spidery voice and was often quite gloomy, making Draco wonder what Pansy saw in the lady. But it was apparently a lot, since she was often found idling by it and speaking in low voices. 

What she talked about, he never knew, but Pansy always looked better after speaking with the woman. Less haunted. Younger. Wherever the change was rooted, he never asked. It was her own business after all, and it wasn't his place to speculate.

Entering the long, wide hall that led to the Headmaster chambers, he spotted a few people, most noticeably Harry.

"Harry!" Draco hurried forward, detaching himself from Pansy's side. With a guarded look back at her, she merely nodded and he moved forward, his mind focused on one thing: to place himself within those warm arms that offered him so much safety and sanctuary. Harry already had his arms open. Within seconds, the two were nestled together, ignoring the not-so-nice snort that escaped Ron's throat. Nor did they pay mind to Hermione's sigh of vicarious thrill. 

However, their moment of sweetness was interrupted by a Severus Snape who came walking around the corner to see his favorite student and his most-loathed student in a clinch that would have done up the most fiendish sex demon with hot blushes. 

Grumbling, his loud and purposeful step past them was enough to break the two up, much to the relief of Ron and the disappointment of Hermione. Draco smirked at Ron and the most hot-tempered of the Weasley's sneered back. It didn't matter if one was the best friend and the other the lover of the same person; there was no way in hell they could ever come close to liking each other.

Respect, yes, but never, ever 'like.'

"Er… Draco? Um…" Hermione trailed off her words, her normally vast usage of vocabulary failing her. 

He turned and his gray eyes pinned themselves on Hermione's uncomfortable gesturing toward Pansy, the Slytherin figure oddly desolate and alone in the hallway.

With a sharp grin that was hardly a smile, he went back to Pansy's side, his pale face shuttered. The two exchanged the briefest of glances, communicating silently in the way only Slytherins could and Pansy shook her head. 

Draco cocked his head slightly to the right, toward the trio, and once again, she shook her head no. Scrutinizing her face, he finally nodded, turning back to Hermione. "Pansy is to join us for the first meeting today."

There was an uncomfortable silence, as was not unusual. Before them stood a girl who had done everything in her power to humiliate Hermione, insult Ron, spread nasty rumors about Harry, and if any of the gossip was correct, trying to get into Draco's pants. 

But Harry studied the girl. His memories of her consisted of a slightly pudgy blonde girl who had shrieked every other word, vile epithets spilling from lips that were often rouged a bright, maudlin red. Later, it was the aloof, icily elegant Slytherin Queen. Only now… 

Now she looked different.

There was no other word for it. She was _different_. He had noticed that when she had returned from the summer after their sixth year; there had been so little to her. He remembered that several of the Gryffindors had become deathly quiet when they had seen her. Especially himself and his friends. She had caused enough disturbances in the past that when the Welcoming Ceremony started, many Gryffindors automatically turned their eyes briefly to the Slytherin table in search for the 'enemies'.

Harry instinctively knew _something_ had happened. 

An event that must had scarred her badly, because he never saw her smile after that. She seemed to float through life, hardly paying attention to anyone. Even her close friends had been at a loss. The gossip mills had immediately started supplying various reasons why the normally meticulous Slytherin 'Queen' had abandoned all attentions to her physical attributes. 

Some of them had been far from nice and Harry had chosen to dispel those with a few sharp words. He knew far too well how hurtful rumors could be. 

But then, a little after Christmas, she had turned around. Her face filled out and the gauntness he had grown to associate with her slowly melted back to thinness. And from Dumbledore, he had found out that Pansy had been sworn into The Order. 

To say he had been surprised would have been an understatement…

~*~__

_"Pansy? A member of The Order of the Phoenix?" Harry chewed on his bottom lip, green eyes worried and skeptical. "Are you sure Professor?"_

_Dumbledore had turned his steely blue gaze on him for long moments, his eyes unusually shuttered. His hands steepled beneath his chin, he asked in a completely neutral voice, 'Why do you ask, Harry?"_

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond, but the first answer to come to his head was, "She's a Slytherin. Aren't they all with Voldemort? Well, except for Draco of course." He added quickly.

_Once the words had flown out of his mouth, he knew, he *knew* instinctively that he had said something wrong. Dumbledore's eyes had grown sad, their blue color deepening in pain, with unacknowledged wrongs that could never be righted. Harry wouldn't admit to it later, not even in his darkest of moments, but he had felt frightened of the usually venerable-looking Headmaster. _

_"Professor?"_

_"Harry. Let me tell you a story." Dumbledore paused, the lines on his face sinking, growing pronounced. "It starts with prejudice. Simple prejudice. Not just of Slytherins toward muggles. But of Gryffindors toward Slytherins." He eyed Harry who was now wearing a stunned look of confusion on his face. _

_"What?"_

_"In the days of Voldemort's first attempts of penetration into the wizard community, Slytherins were considered the evil House. Not as flagrantly as now, but still, it was enough to isolate most Slytherins from the rest of the school. I had thought myself a completely fair and just Headmaster. But… in the end, I had chosen the Gryffindors."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"There was a boy. He was a smart boy. One of the most intelligent of his class. He was also a Slytherin. There were Gryffindors who resented him, hated him. It was easy to hate him. He was arrogant, proud, and verbally abusive… but he had principles. Fierce principles (2) that I was proud to observe in him, proud to think that he had obtained them from Hogwarts. In the end, what I did was ground those principles to the dirt."_

_Harry gaped at Dumbledore, his mind whirling. _

_"During their fifth year, the Gryffindors… more precisely, a single Gryffindor, decided to play a prank on the Slytherin. Not just any prank. If this 'prank' had succeeded, the Slytherin would have died. The one time the Slytherin decided to trust someone, especially a person from Gryffindor, the one time… the one time he was betrayed. The prank should have warranted expulsion, or in the very least, suspension and a years worth of detentions. But none came."_

_"Why?" Harry felt baffled. He had done far less and had been threatened with far more. _

_"It was that moment. I had to choose between Slytherin and Gryffindor. And I chose the Gryffindor without even thinking about what I was doing to the Slytherin. Because of my lack of protection at that crucial moment, I let that Slytherin boy fall. I failed him. And I will regret it for the rest of my life."_

_This was starting to sound awfully familiar. Emphasis on 'awfully'. Prank in fifth year. Would have died if succession had been created. And slowly, an image dawned on him, the horror forcing bile up his throat, threatening to choke him with acidic hatred._

_"You don't mean… you don't mean…" Dumbledore held up a hand._

_"No, Harry, don't ask. It's not for me to place any names."_

_"But…"_

_"Harry." That was enough to silence the boy. "But even then, I didn't realize what I had done. The grievous error I had committed. Not until years later when he came to me and begged for sanctuary, for peace from the evils done to him, from the evils he had committed… and from the nightmares that still plague him. I knew then. I knew then that I had failed the Slytherins. And not only them. Every child who chooses to go to the Dark Side under my tutelage; it was my failure. One after another, I let them fall."_

_The undeniable pain in Dumbledore's eyes was choking. Harry didn't want to know this. He didn't *need* to know this. _

_Harry managed to croak out, "I still don't understand. What's that got to do with anything?"_

_"Harry, many of the Slytherin's were and still are raised in the Dark Arts. Some are nurtured in the shadow of evil, as many would say. This shouldn't have been used to condemn them though. It should have been used as a reason to sympathize and try even harder to understand them and bring them to our side. These children don't know any other life. When they come here, ostentatiously, they are given a choice between good and evil… but I've realized throughout the years, that this is an extremely hard decision. Their families or a Headmaster they meet only at the age of eleven? A heritage that's been drilled into their heads or a new thinking that others say they should believe in? For a school that disliked them, a Headmaster that seemed to not care, or a Lord that promised them vengeance, wealth, and power?" Dumbledore leaned back into his seat, his face troubled. "In the end, the choice wasn't really a choice for most."_

Harry was stunned. He had never considered that perhaps even Professor Dumbledore would have such doubts, such serious doubts about everything in general. The general consensus around the fireplace was that Dumbledore could do anything… well, almost anything.

_"Professor… I'm still…" He flailed helplessly in his quest for the right words. But they all seemed to escape him._

_"It all boils down to one thing. All have to make the choice… but Slytherins have to struggle to find that choice. In ways the other houses don't." He paused. "Perhaps its time you went back to your schoolmates. It's lunchtime after all."_

_Harry nodded numbly and managed to make his way to the Great Hall where lunch was noisily commencing._

~*~

Hermione shifted by his side, bringing him back to the present. Heavy-minded, he managed a smile at Pansy, where she nodded briefly in return. Hermione and Ron followed his example, reservations obvious, but making an attempt to bridge the yawning chasm between _her_ and _them_. It wasn't common after all. She was a Slytherin; they were Gryffindors. Even with Draco, Hermione had a hard time sometimes revealing her feelings. 

It just wasn't the same.__

"Ah, Harry. Here you are." They turned to see Remus striding toward them, his demeanor suffusing with pleasure at seeing his former students. A great, black dog was close on his heels, and there was an amount of glee from the trio's side at seeing Sirius walking in broad daylight. Even if he was in his Animagus form. 

Harry leaned over to hug 'Snuffles' and a private conversation consisting of barks and questions commenced, allowing Hermione to drag Remus and Draco into a discussion about the meeting that would be occurring in a half-hour. This time, apparently, most if not all members were going to be attending, and she was wondering how they would fit comfortably into the room. 

Which left Ron and Pansy eyeing each other in their sudden awkward silence. It wasn't that he didn't trust her yet; he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, even moreso than for Draco, since he saved his hatred for male adversaries, but still… she was a Slytherin. And Slytherins were practically famous for joining You-Know-Who. 

"Er… how have you been doing?"

"Alright. You, Weasley?"

"Um, yeah, I reckon I'm doing really good."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I got an eighty-seven on McGonagall's test… how 'bout you?"

"Ninety-nine."

"Oh… um… " Ron now flailed around for a topic to continue the conversation, but finally in desperation, he turned to Hermione with a pleading glint in his eyes. "What'd you get, 'Mione?"

She took one look at his panicked expression and took momentary pity on him. She joined their conversation with a cheerful grin and said, "I got a hundred, but I also got five percent extra credit." Hermione paused suddenly, realizing that she was doing exactly what the Slytherins used to make fun of her for. 

Risking a careful glance at Pansy, Hermione noted that the Slytherin girl's face was tooled into an impassive mask. She had noticed that a lot lately. None of the Slytherins were very fond of revealing emotions beyond contempt, indifference, or hate. Sometimes she wondered whether they even had any other emotions… of course, Draco was the exception; but that was only with Harry. He was as cool as before where Hermione was concerned. If they happened to be together alone, they exchanged the customary insults.

But those were mercifully rare and she knew Draco well enough now to trust him and accept his words with several grains of salt. 

A clapping of hands refocused their attention back to Remus. He was smiling indulgently, looking much like a paternal figure among so many teenagers. "I would think we should head toward Professor Dumbledore's chambers. I, for once, would like a seat around the table."

His voice was slightly teasing since they knew that seats would automatically be kept for them. He moved forward, Snuffles following behind him, his eyes shining with barely-suppressed excitement. Hermione pulled the three boys aside, beckoning for Pansy to join also. The girl shook her head no and followed after Remus.

"Well? I think it's close to the time we execute Operation Snog!" Hermione stated, her eyes shining with glee. 

Harry snorted and commented, "I don't know why you insist on calling this thing we're doing that."

"Now? As in during the meeting?" Ron managed to choke out after going an unhealthy white.

"Not now! But later… we can plant the idea in Snape's head. Remus won't chase after him. You all know that. He's gone through too many rejections… and he respects Snape's privacy and all that. And Harry… what do you suggest I call it?"

"Then why are we getting involved again?" Draco drawled out, his gray eyes interested, regardless of his self-affected indifference. He patted Harry on the arm as the Gryffindor seeker shrugged at Hermione's question. 

"Because! They won't get together if we don't help, and I, for one, will not stand around to watch love go down the drain like that." She finished indignantly and glared at them. They mumbled and looked away, avoiding her eyes. True love was all right… but connecting it with men old enough to be their fathers was rather odd and… disturbing.

However, Draco smirked. "Granger, as much as I hate to say this, but you have a mind worthy of a Slytherin sometimes."

She sniffed and said, "Of course. I was almost sorted there after all."

Dead silence.

Ron finally croaked out, "What?"

"Well, at the sorting ceremony of first year, the hat mentioned Slytherin though it decided to put me in Gryffindor." 

One of Draco's eyes had arched so high, that it looked as if it disappeared into the silver fringe of his hair. He coughed delicately and asked, "You, Slytherin?"

"Yes. One crack out of you Malfoy and I'll slap you again." She smiled cheekily and he allowed a small grin in response. Ron groaned and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'my girlfriend, a Slytherin.' 

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave up on trying to convince them to help. For now. They had more serious things to think about. She was infinitely patient; she could wait for the perfect moment in order to 'persuade' them to implement her plan into action. 

She wasn't the smartest witch of her class for nothing. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Pansy had spent the last few days agonizing about the meeting. The Meeting. With capital letters and ominous music. She didn't think she should have gone… no, to be correct, she didn't want to go. Her experience with people outside of Slytherin was not particularly pleasant. 

The teasing. The hate. The disgust. The utter loathing. 

Shivering, she wrapped thin arms around her torso, wanting no more then to crawl back to her rooms and bury herself beneath her silk comforter and sleep. She hadn't been able to sleep in so long… her nights were plagued with endless nightmares and she already had to cast silencing charms every night in the event one of her more dubious roommates overheard and reported her screams to her father.

Walking with her head down, she didn't notice Remus stop and she walked right into him. With a startled cry, she bounced backwards and landed hard on her back. Staring up at the ceiling in stunned surprise, she felt pain arc up her spine. There was so little tissue to cushion her fall that every touch that was harder then the usual give and take caused her intense, shooting pain. 

Rolling to her side, she lay still in order to allow the pain dissipate before attempting to rise. A slight tingle in the dark mark on her arm focused her thoughts and she sat up, her right hand coming up unconsciously to grasp the area where it was still stinging. From what she had learned from Professor Snape, it would hurt forever until the day Voldemort was truly dead. 

"Are you alright?" Lupin's voice washed over her, a concerned adult among many who simply didn't care. 

She looked her, her face carefully blank. "Yes, Professor." She stood and moved past him, ignoring the confusion washing over his features. 

There was a growl and she looked to the side to see the black dog that followed Lupin all around school. His eyes were the color of chocolate and for a moment, she could have sworn human intelligence was sparking behind those dog eyes. One hand strayed out to touch it lightly on the head, but the animal snarled and moved away.

Pansy's hand was left in mid-air. The pale fingers trembled a moment before she controlled her shudders and pulled them into her robes, digging the nails into her hand, bringing forth bloody crescents. It seemed that even dogs couldn't abide her presence. 

Throwing her head back, she marched toward Dumbledore's chambers. 

Sirius stared after her, his eyes now growing thoughtful. She had drawn blood; he could smell it in the air. 

"Paddy."

Sirius turned around his massive body to stare at the reproaching face of Remus. There was a moment of tense silence before he shrugged his furry shoulders. There was no guilt about his actions; she was a Slytherin after all, and all Slytherins were evil gits. He was a Gryffindor and it was his right to hate them for what all they had done, did, and would do. 

A pity that his own godson had fallen in love with a Malfoy, but Sirius supposed that Draco was different. A fluke to Slytherin like how Peter Pettigrew was to Gryffindor.__

Remus frowned, wanting to insist that Sirius apologize to Pansy later. But he knew that Sirius had his own morals, no matter how narrow they were. It would do no good to try and change them after nearly twenty years. 

Absently beckoning to the whispering little group in the back – briefly wondering what they were being so secretive about – he shuffled to the door, a bit nervous at seeing faces he hadn't seen since his days at Hogwarts. There was also the distinct possibility of meeting up with old enemies, even old rivals. Severus had always…

_No, don't think about it._

Entering, he realized that the room was starting to fill up, people arriving either from the floo network or from other means. What 'means' they were, he didn't quite know, but Apparition was out of the question for obvious reasons such as it wasn't possible on Hogwart grounds. As was just flying in on a broomstick.

Pansy was looking around uncertainly, the most diverse expression on her face he had seen yet. Perhaps it was because of the sudden enormity of the situation. Or perhaps she was just realizing what she was dealing with in the enormity of her choice. Remus decided he would keep an eye on her. He didn't doubt Severus's judgments, but to err on the side of safety, not only for Harry's sake, but for Severus too. Undoubtedly, if she weren't what they thought she was, the one hurt most would be the Head of Slytherin House.

_Severus, you put too much of yourself into these students of yours. _

~*~*~*~*~*~

Minerva was moving around the room, shaking hands and doing the general meet-and-greet for these sorts of gatherings. The air was by and largely cheerful, but everyone, including her, could feel the tension that was simmering below the surface. This was a vitally important meeting that would expunge all doubts of what was happening in the wizard community. 

Albus was speaking pleasantly in one of the corners with several older wizards and witches, each listening intently. He had magically enlarged the room until it would fit comfortably several hundred people.

She nodded to Alastor Moody who had come thumping into the room, his leg newly restored after the episode with Barty Crouch Jr. during Harry's fourth year. (3) It was a pity, but the retired Auror had become even more paranoid after that episode. 

Clapping her hands together, she said, "Time to start!" Her poor attempt at gathering everyone's attention was an utter failure as no one but the people nearest to her even noticed. Grumbling, she directed her wand at her throat and once again shouted, "Time to start!"

This time, everyone heard (with more than one rubbing their ears afterwards) and they settled into the numerous seats placed around the massive stone table that stood rather stately in the center. Harry recognized a few of the people in attendance and of course, Mr. Weasley was there too, along with Bill. Percy and Oliver were in France, to convince the Delacour Family to support them. The full-blooded Veela's would undoubtedly join Voldemort, but they were hopeful of claiming the half and part-Veelas. And the Delacour Family was their ticket. 

Ron looked rather proud of the fact that his father was in The Order, but refrained from making any smug comments at Draco. 

Snape was sitting on the right side of Dumbledore, looking as dark and forbidding as usual. There was a rather nasty curl to his lips whenever he glanced at Sirius and Remus, but Harry supposed that it was natural. After all, one was his would-be murderer and the other was the person who had sent him there. 

He was still questioning Hermione's sanity for even thinking that there was anything between Remus and Snape. It was utterly ridiculous.

_Like you and Draco?_

_Shut up._

Flopping into a seat, with Draco settling in next to him, he ignored some of the whispers that rose like a flock of birds at the sight of Draco Malfoy sitting by Harry Potter. There were still prejudiced gits who couldn't get over the fact that perhaps, just perhaps, The Boy Who Lived was perfectly happy with the son of one of the most infamous Death Eaters. 

Hermione clucked her tongue and glared at the dissenters. With a dramatic flair, she plopped down on the other side of Draco and started talking rather loudly about the wedding. A tiny smile graced the pale face of his beloved and Harry relaxed the tiniest of fractions. But he kept to his lover's side and adopted his 'protective boyfriend' demeanor.

Turning his attention to Dumbledore, Harry was rather unnerved to see wizards and witches of every field gathered there, their faces complacent and intelligent. But he also noted the occasional person who seemed ill at ease, as if they would rather be in the open spaces. 

Shaking his head, he sat straight up automatically as Dumbledore cleared his throat. The room quieted steadily, as if the very presence of the venerable wizard commanded an aura of respect and peace. 

"Welcome, old friends, old allies. Welcome, new friends, new allies. The Order of the Phoenix will commence." With a nod at Minerva, she stood up, her eyes sharp. 

"On several notes of discussion, we've sent Rubeus Hagrid and Madame Olympe Maxime to plead our case with the Giants." She paused to let the whispers die down. "They have not returned yet, but they've sent an owl to us that stated that the Giants are willing to listen."

A wizard with a slightly paunchy build raised his voice. "Can we trust the Giants?"

"I believe we can. It was a mistake during Voldemort's first reign that we ignored them. They joined Voldemort's side and there was a great deal of killing that could have been prevented."

He nodded slightly, his hand stroking his chin with a pensive air. 

"Next, we believe that the Death Eaters may have employed Quidditch as a weapon. Or rather, the weapon of flying. We're not sure how this will work, but apparently they're starting to target some of the lesser European League teams. Our contacts there have insinuated that the offers are grand enough that many of the mediocre players are considering joining."

Moody snorted and said, "Which is why you can't trust those air-headed flying fools."

Many turned to glare at him, but he sniffed and turned his attention back to Minerva. In her mind, she rolled her eyes, but continued in her dry tone that all her students knew so well. "Not only that, but there's also owls from the Asian countries that the traffic for some of their dark magic's have grown noticeably and that there's rumors of a coalition who's recruiting members for a new revolution. Under the name for "Ree Dell."

There was a moment of horrified silence before agitated whispers broke forth like a storm and ravaged the room. McGonagall allowed this for several moments before calling the attention back to her notes. "However, the Asian Ministry, or the ones who are with us, has sent assurances that they've sent a team to investigate."

Pausing, she cleared her throat. "As for the Delacour Family of France, both Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood have owled us and confirmed that Fleur Delacour, current heir to the Family's legacy, is willing to join us." Arthur beamed with pride and Oliver's father, Elmond Wood, sat up straighter, his face wrinkling with smiles and accepting the whispered congratulations of the impending marriage between the two families.

Dumbledore indicated with a jolly nod of his head for McGonagall to sit down. He stood and motioned to Severus with a wide wave of his arm. "All of you know Severus Snape, our current and only spy within the Death Eaters." He beamed at everyone, seemingly ignorant – or ignoring – of the fact that many people were looking at Severus with askance glares in their hooded eyes. 

"However, this year, we have gained a new spy within the folds. A newly recruited Death Eater was initiated during the passing summer and she has agreed to turn her back on Voldemort and work for us. Severus?" 

Snape stood, his sallow skin paler than normal. But with a smoothness that belied any sort of nervousness, he said, "This summer, a number of people were introduced into the Death Eaters. Most, if not all, were the children of the Inner Circle." 

"Children?" The horrified tone seemed to echo many sentiments in the room as most blanched. 

Snape nodded. "Yes. Children." He paused, his eyes blackening. "Most seemed willing, but several seemed to be forced. We targeted these students and we've successfully asked and tested one of them. Miss Parkinson?" Snape asked, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Pansy felt as if her neck weighed a thousand kilos. She had spent already most of the meeting staring at the table, very careful not to look up and accidentally catch the eyes of anyone that hated her, loathed her, wondered why she was even there.

Finally, with a great amount of inner will and strength, she looked up slowly, her blue eyes catching within the intensity of Professor Snape's own eyes. His head inclined the barest fraction of an inch and she stood up slowly.

Dumbledore smoothly intercepted the sudden tense silence in the room. "Miss Parkinson is a newly inducted member of The Order. I'm proud to see her break from her family's past in order to turn spy for us." (4)

The whispers broke out in a flurry of noise and more than one person glared at her with loathing and anger in their eyes. She was a _Slytherin_. A _Parkinson_. A _Death Eater._

One middle-aged woman, her hair scraped severely into a bun, asked mildly, "How do we know she can infiltrate the Death Eaters?"

"Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy stilled. This was the moment she was dreading. She didn't want to reveal that blasphemous scar that blighted her arm. She didn't want all those eyes already filled with hatred to shine with disgust too. She didn't want _Draco or __Granger or__ anyone to see that mark. _

"Well? We really don't have all day." The sneer was obvious in the words and more than one turned to glare at the balding wizard who was smiling rather scornfully.

Pansy turned her head around the room slowly. There was undisguised curiosity, penetrating stares, icy expressions of displeasure, and impassive masks of potential condemnation. With shaking fingers, she slowly pulled up the sleeve of her left arm. She was terrified of the moment the Dark Mark would come into focus.

Shutting her trembling eyes, the last few inches were yanked up with ruthless efficiency. It wasn't as visible as the night when it had burned blacker then pitch, the night they had branded her like some sort of animal, ignoring her shrieks, her pleas for them to stop.

Dimly, she heard the indrawn gasps and curses as they all stared at her upper arm, the Dark Mark faint, but exuding such blackness, such evil, such horror, that several had to turn their eyes away, the mark bringing back memories of nights when they had seen the same mark in the sky, floating in green mist. 

"Death Eater!" A woman screeched and her next movement was so quick that several people had to throw themselves at her before she could launch herself at Pansy to tear her apart. The woman was screaming, her shrieks echoing with endless pain, such dark, dark hatred. Pansy had immediately hidden her arm and she shrank away into Professor Snape's side, where he put an arm around her and protectively pushed her behind him and several other professors. 

McGonagall was shouting for everyone to calm down, even as the women continued to scream, her thrashings nearly uncontainable. It took the combined strength of two wizards and a burly witch in order to pin her down and even then she continued to strain herself toward Pansy, nothing on her mind except to hurt the Death Eater – disregarding that the girl was barely over seventeen.

"Althena!" Finally, Dumbledore's roar brought everything to a deathly silence. Althena had slowed her fighting, her face dropping her head into her arms. The quiet sobs emanating from her tiny form echoing through the room. Pansy was as white as ash, her eyes huge and dilated. 

Althena's friends gently took her away, shooting poisonous glares at Pansy, who felt more than saw Professor Snape glare right back at them and pull her protectively toward his body. All she could see was that woman's grief-stricken face, the pain that had twisted her mind into nothing but a mindless animal. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Miss Parkinson may have the Dark Mark on her arm, but I assure you, she is as much as one of us as anyone in this room." Dumbledore was quiet in his conviction, but apparently, even he could not undo the damage done.

A man stood, his green eyes snapping. "Albus. I don't doubt you're judgment, but she's a Death Eater! She has the Dark Mark! That proves that she's guilty beyond any redemption!" His eyes twisted with insane rage and his hands twitched as if they were begging to be wrapped around her neck.

"I agree with Roger. Dumbledore… she's a Slytherin after all, and she undoubtedly received that mark willingly. It would be foolish of us to allow a possible traitor into our group." The woman spat out her words, her lips sneering with disgust.

Snape clenched his fists and he looked thunderous, as if he wanted to shout at them about their prejudices and biased feelings. But narrowing his eyes, he refused to let anyone close to Pansy who looked as if she was close to fainting, judging from the gray pallor of her skin.

But once more, Pansy surprised him.

"I didn't."

The arguing adults turned as one to stare at her with astonishment. She shrank a little, but at the same moment, she pulled herself up, her eyes flashing with something akin to desperation. She repeated louder, "I didn't. I didn't want to get the mark. Don't say things you don't _know_." Her hands were grasped so tightly in front that the flesh seemed completely white.

"Didn't want? Don't make me laugh! You're the same as all the Slytherins! Evil, dark, _wicked_! You all joined You-Know-Who during the First Wave and you'll join him now! You want to sabotage The Order!" Roger shouted, his face reddening to a deep vermilion red under his anger. With a vile word to her parentage, he stalked from the room to the adjoining chamber.

Now there was utter silence. 

"Well, it seems that we have several prejudiced gits to deal with." The dry words broke the spell and Dumbledore's face once again lit up. 

"Arabella! I had not thought you would make it!"

The elderly woman grinned back, looking much like Dumbledore in the sense of spry and gleaming eyes. She had been listening to the entire meeting from the back, hidden among the shifting bodies. "Of course I made it. I didn't intend to spend all my days living in that house across from those horrid Dursleys. Nasty muggles if I ever met any. And I doubt Harry will disagree." 

She winked at Harry and he grinned back. Finding out that 'crazy, old Mrs. Figgs' really was a witch had been the shocker that had nearly zapped the socks off Aunt Petunia and thrilled Harry beyond all boundaries. No longer under the pretense of acting somewhat like a muggle, she had wanted him over at her place all the time. The Dursley's had grudgingly relented and now Harry could spend his summers almost-deliriously happy with Mrs. Figgs. She was quite willing to take in Draco too, so everything was perfect. (In Harry's eyes)

It turned out that the reason she had volunteered to move to Privet Drive in the first place, was in order to take care of Harry. Dumbledore had been worried that the blood protection spells they had cast over the entire area might still contain a loophole here or there, and after she had listened to his doubts, she had taken on the task of protecting James and Lily's son. She was rather fond of Lily and had a soft spot for James. And Severus had made such a special request…

~*~

"For Lily."

_"Why?"_

_Severus had paused then, his voice dropping away to silence. He was prowling restlessly through his dim and dank chambers, eyes brooding. She had taken up the usual cup of tea he offered. Their relationship was a rather peculiar one. She had met him several times during his student days. He had been an odd student, quiet, pale, at times verbally vicious, but enticingly smart. She had enjoyed her word duels with him then and always looked forward to besting him once in a while. _

_She had developed a fondness for the boy, even if he and most of the Gryffindors hadn't gotten along very well. After he had graduated, she had lost contact with him. The next time they had met, she had been an Auror and he had already become a Death Eater. She would never forget that impromptu meeting in Dumbledore's office where he had confessed to the two of them of what he had done. _

_She had forgiven him almost immediately, even as she was horribly disappointed, because she could sense there were things he wasn't telling them, circumstances that could never be explained. Arabella had wanted immediately to take him to the countryside to recover, but Dumbledore had overridden her objections and had sent him back to the darkness. _

_To the War. (5)_

_For the next year, she didn't see him again.  _

_The next time she had met him was when Moody had hauled in a half-dead Severus after the final raid. Though she disapproved Moody's way of handling Death Eaters, she had never intervened before. Not even for Severus._

_But there had been something in those eyes of his. Snape's._

_Dark, dead, so very, very black. She couldn't have imagined anyone to have such dead eyes. Such lifeless eyes in a body that was still very much alive. _

_And he was so old. Only twenty-something. So young for a wizard… yet, his eyes were so very old. _

_The moment she had seen those eyes, she felt something inexplicable well up in her. In the end, the unusual moment of tenderness had ended up in a near-duel between her and Moody, intense arguments that had resulted in her calling in several favors, and a final meeting with Dumbledore and the Governor's Board, where they had worked out a deal for Snape to work at Hogwarts as the Potions Master. _

_Snape knew. She instinctively could tell that he was aware of all the deals she and Dumbledore had struck with the Governor's Board in order to allow him to become the Head of Slytherin House. But he wouldn't mention it. As she wouldn't. It was a silent promise between the two of them that would forever remain buried. _

_There was a distant look to those eyes of his. Arabella had always found it incredibly sad that of all the eyes she had seen, it was the Slytherin eyes that hurt the most. Sometimes they were angry, sometimes lost… but the worst was the blankness, the complete detachment. She wondered sometimes whether their unofficial policy of ignoring the Slytherin children, many times who they found huddled after raids in the houses of their parents, was right. She really did wonder sometimes. _

_They were children after all._

_Not Death Eaters._

_But *children*._

_Snape was obviously unwilling to share whatever history he had with the former Lily Evans. Arabella was about to give up on prying the answer out of him, when Snape himself, in a faltering voice, said, "Lily… she was… she was the only one to stand up for me in seventh year when… Black had told everyone that I was a Death Eater." There was a moment of twisted silence. Both of them were still half in shock over the stunned betrayal of Sirius Black. _

_"And?"_

_"She was the only one."_

_"Severus…"_

_"You know what I'm asking."_

_"I don't have anything against it. Albus has asked me to do the same thing. And I've agreed. The world doesn't need a retired Auror anymore." There was no bitterness to her voice, just a dry acceptance of the facts. _

_"It's the one thing I can do for her."_

_"But you're still going to hate that boy when he comes, won't you?"_

_"If he's to fight Voldemort… he'll need strength. Not pampering."_

_"I know."_

_"You'll be leaving soon?"_

_"Very soon. You do understand that after this I won't be able to see you for quite some time. Most likely not until he starts Hogwarts. At the very least, that'll be ten years." Her unvoiced question lingered in the air. _

_Could he really last ten years with the possibility that he might not have a single supporter except for Dumbledore?_

_"I know." His voice was barely a whisper._

_Arabella eyed him for a moment before nodding. Standing, she went over, her slightly wrinkled hand clasping him on the shoulder. They stood that way for a long time, delaying the moment they would have to say goodbye. Their relationship was still considered nearly blasphemous by many. A former Auror and a former Death Eater?  _

_No one but a select few understood the intricacies of their friendship. It wasn't explainable. Nor was it thinkable. A person either accepted it or not. _

_When their moment had passed, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, a motherly affection that his own mother hadn't ever bothered to give him. Then she had left. _

~*~__

That had been the last time they had seen each other for nearly thirteen years. After Harry's third year, he had suddenly appeared at her house one dark night, raving about 'Remus Lupin, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Sirius Black, werewolves, Remus Lupin, the Shrieking Shack, Dementors, Dumbledore, arrogant children, Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Dementors, betrayal, Dumbledore, pain, and nightmares'. 

It had taken her hours to persuade him go to bed and to get some badly needed sleep. She had seen him worse, the day Moody had dragged him in, but that night had been almost as bad. He mumbled about favoritism at its worst, choked out terrors that had her half-fumbling for her wand to blast at Sirius Black, and raved for Dumbledore in a way that had her soothing him with words, before he could drift off. 

As soon as he had managed to fall asleep, her eyes flashed like the avenging angel she fancied herself to be. Immediately, she had written a scathing letter to Dumbledore that had angrily asked what the hell he was doing. And what in damnation was going on with Sirius Black. 

They had a heated argument that night. He had come over as soon as the 'Speedee' Owl had delivered her letter, his obvious relief at finding Severus abating her anger somewhat. But not enough that they didn't end up nearly shouting at each other. The only reason they restrained themselves was in concern for the fitfully sleeping Severus. 

She had told him furiously point-blank that one of their deals was that she would leave Severus in his care. His _care_. Which implied that he would actually take care of the Potions Master for her. Arabella didn't have high hopes for Albus in the first place, but for Severus to end up in such obvious pain, she felt that her end of the deal had been grievously slighted. 

Albus had given her a full account of the year's events and although she was nearly struck dumb about Sirius' innocence, she stuck stubbornly to the original reason for her intense anger. After she had let loose several well-placed comments on his handling of the situation, he had lost his own temper and told her that Severus had wanted to deliver Sirius to the Dementors. 

And she had shouted back…

~*~

_"You give him little cause not to, Albus! Sirius Black nearly killed him their fifth year and nothing was done! Nothing at all! Here, the supposed murderer and traitor of the Potters comes back, at the foot of his ex-best friend, Remus Lupin, and you think Severus wouldn't consider it another attempt to end Harry's life? You should know better!" She raged. _

_"Arabella! Severus of all people should understand that nothing should be read at face value!" Dumbledore rumbled, his voice annoyed._

_That had stopped her. She had glared at him, her eyes narrowing, her cheek twitching. "That was low, Albus. Even for you." Pausing, she trooped angrily around the kitchen, getting a breakfast together that would be able to settle Severus' upset stomach._

_"You know how much Severus cares for that boy. He'll do almost anything in order to ensure that Harry will survive all this trials. But you don't see that, do you? You only see how hard he's on Harry, and how much his anger toward James seems to be affecting his judgment. That's all you see, isn't it?"_

_"That's not it. I understand that Severus is working to protect Harry… but truly, at times, I cannot condone his way of protection."_

_"*His* way? His way is the only way he knows how to prepare Harry! Voldemort's not going to treat him like a human being! Voldemort won't bother waiting for Harry to arm himself before killing him! Voldemort won't apologize when he accidentally hits Harry with Cruciatus! What Severus is doing is *righ*! What you and your Professors are doing is *cruel*! You're sending him out like any other kid when he should be told, when he should be prepared! How do you expect him to survive?"_

_"Harry's still a child! He should have a childhood like any other." _

_"Then stop giving him these crosses to bear! Give it to the adults! Give it to the Aurors! But don't give it to a thirteen-year old child and a man who's already shouldered thousands of crosses!"_

_"I'm not. I'm allowing Harry to make his own choices. I've laid out the facts, but I keep certain things from him so he can enjoy his life. The life he should have had if James and Lily hadn't died."_

_Arabella snarled. "I don't care, Albus. You promised. You promised that if I left him in your care, you would take care of him. I understand that Sirius is innocent. I'm thrilled. Why? Because that means Severus can stop torturing himself about the guilt in not warning everyone about what Sirius was really like." She stirred the pot of soup viciously, transferring all her resentment about the situation into that innocent vat. _

_"Arabella…"_

_"Don't you 'Arabella' me! We had a deal! I would stay and protect Harry as much as I could, and you would take care of Severus for me! And in the end, I think *you* got the better end of the deal!" Her utter fury of the situation wasn't lost on Dumbledore and he softened considerably._

_"I'm sorry. But I had to protect Sirius. He's suffered enough."_

_"I know he's suffered. Far more than many. But so has Severus. And I'm not about to let the fact that Sirius had spent those years in Azkaban to override Severus himself!"_

_"I'm not! I'm just as worried about Severus as you are."_

_"No, you're not." She had been absolutely calm at that point._

_"What?"_

_"You. Don't. Care. For. Severus. Like. Me."_

_"Arabella, explain yourself."_

_"You care, but you will never know what it's like to be him. You will never know what it's like for him to watch you praise and excuse everything your precious Gryffindors do, while lecturing him for doing anything, anything at all, wrong. You'll never know what it's like to have his world crumble around him and then only to have the one person who he trusted to push him back into evil. You'll never know."_

_"And you do?"_

_"No, I don't. No one can understand his pain. But in the very *least*, I put him first and not always SECOND!" She veritably roared. With that, she branded her spoon at him and hissed, "Albus. You know I trust you more than anyone in this world. But at this moment, I would gladly see you flailing around under Cruciatust rather then Severus. That poor boy has suffered enough. I won't stand by to see him hurt more!" _

_"He's not going to be hurt anymore. He understands why I did that!"_

_"Does he?"_

_"I explained the circumstances to him."_

_"You explained the favoritism! Albus. I'll make one thing clear. If I am to allow Severus to return to Hogwarts as Potions Master and spy, you will put his needs first. Not Sirius Black. Not Remus Lupin. Not Harry Potter. Him. Do you understand? I don't care about all your grand plans. If Severus is hurt again, I'm taking him away, regardless of the consequences."_

_Dumbledore shook his head in defeat. "Arabella…"_

_"Albus. Promise me. Please. I need to know that I didn't spend the last thirteen years here for nothing." She turned to him, her hands clenched on the spoon, wondering with weariness whether her choice in leaving Severus in the care of Dumbledore those long years back, had been right after all. _

_"You know I care for Severus."_

_She slumped into chair, all the fight seeping out of her. Waving a hand tiredly, she said, "I know. It's just that… You didn't see him tonight Albus. He was a wreck. Even worse then that morning after the Shrieking Shack incident." Her dark eyes pierced his blue ones and she dared him to refute that statement._

_"Do you really believe I handled that situation badly?"_

_"I do."_

_"I was protecting Remus."_

_"I know. But you didn't explain that to Severus. He's believed all these years that you were protecting Sirius Black." (6)_

_Dumbledore rubbed his face in exhaustion. He hadn't realized there were such deep rifts between his members of The Order. "I didn't… Things were different then, Arabella."_

_"I know, Albus. I know. I know better than anyone. Forget it." She shook her head in fatigue. "Harry's doing fine. Apparently, that godfather of his, the one you happened to neglect to tell me was Sirius Black, has some sort of special 'charm' on the Dursleys. They're not as beastly as usual. Albus. What's happening next year?"_

_"The Triwizard Tournament."_

_"So they're reviving that old doddy?" _

_Dumbledore chuckled and the two sat down. They talked far into the night, with her shooing him out before Severus could wake. She knew it would only do more damage for a temporarily weakened Severus to see his mentor, the only man he worshiped._

Arabella returned from her musings to the present and saw that Severus was watching her with a suspicious glint in his eyes. Winking at him, he stiffened and turned away, a rather annoyed expression on his face. She easily routed out the petulance that caused him to revert back toward his school days. 

Considering the situation and her part in many of Snape's 'protections', she was mostly well liked by her colleagues. Her position as a former Auror helped immensely, and she was one of the few that hadn't gotten drunk on the power that came with the position. Tuning back into the debate at hand, she filed away a certain tidbit from Snape's schooldays in order to share over tear and biscuits later. 

Dumbledore sighed and then repeated to the occupants of the room, "If we aren't supportive of each other, then Voldemort and his Death Eaters will have won already."

Several witches and wizards colored, their faces growing forbidding. With scowls, they quieted their dissensions before choosing to glare silently at Pansy, who was had been pushed into her seat by Severus and was staring at her clutched hands, her eyes shadowed. 

With a few more words and departed warnings, Dumbledore ended the meeting with a smile and twinkling eyes. People slowly filtered out, some speaking in low voices to Dumbledore, others pausing in front of Severus and Pansy and seeming like they wanted to say something. But with hesitation in their footsteps, most simply just averted their eyes and moved on.

The woman who had broken down hadn't reappeared and Snape assumed that her friends had taken her home. Good riddance. Her words had lashed deep wounds in Pansy's spirit, in her soul, in her eyes. He could see where they had started to bleed, leaving her bereft of any hope for happiness. 

She moved listlessly toward the door, Draco appearing at her side, his face slightly belligerent. Whispering words into her ear, she nodded slowly. The two disappeared through the door while Harry and Ron hung back to talk with Sirius and Remus. Hermione had gone already with Professor McGonagall, hoping to discuss one of her grades. 

Snape and Dumbledore spoke in low, intense voices. Arabella listened in, an indulgent look gracing her features. Remus sidled up, hopeful that perhaps he could speak to Severus alone for a few moments.

"Ah, Remus! Severus and I were just discussing Miss Parkinson. It seems that we have disagreements over her position. What do you and Sirius think?"

Remus glanced at Severus and swallowed at the menacing expression on Snape's face. Forcing his voice to come out normally, he replied, "They'll come around, Albus. They usually do."

There was a vigorous nod from both Harry and Ron, anxious to support Remus. They were also testing out Hermione's theory on the two Professors relationship. Without seeming too awkward, Harry asked, "Professor Snape?"

Snape turned, confusion lingering in his black eyes. Rarely, if ever, did Harry direct words at him that weren't insults or at least, petulant whines. "What?"

"I was… er… wondering… if you would… um… tell me more about my parents!" He finished with triumph.

Sirius sputtered, "Harry! I can tell you more about James and Lily! You don't have to ask him!"

"Er… Professor Dumbledore said that Professor Snape knew my mum really well." Harry shot a pleading glance at Dumbledore and the wizard picked up on it.

"Yes, yes! I remember that Severus and Lily were the best of their class. They were usually paired together for projects and whatever. Even Minerva put them together in Transfigurations class…" He trailed off fondly, his weathered face growing wistful. "What a pair they were."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, his mouth hanging open. Ron elbowed him in the ribs. Croaking, he managed to say, "Really? That's… um… interesting." Nodding quickly, he and Ron quickly shut up, ignoring the suppressed grin on Figg's face, seeming to know of what they were attempting to accomplish. 

"What do you know? The boys are growing up." She winked at Remus and he flushed, sneaking a small look at Snape. 

He wasn't as forbidding as before, his face slightly soft. It was a great achievement and did much to smooth away the old lines of care and pain. For a moment, he seemed like the Severus Snape Remus had known during their school days instead of the new, unattainable creature that he transformed into.

And Sirius broke the delicate balance with a short laugh. 

"I suppose if Lily hadn't gone for James, Harry could have been Harry _Snape_." His scornful words iced the air and Snape stiffened. The way his name had been spat out, one would have thought Sirius was speaking about Voldemort or someone equally vile. 

Remus turned to him, his eyes wide and pained. Holding out a slightly beseeching, partially placating hand to Snape, he was ceremonially brushed away. In a mocking tone, Snape broke out, "And if Lily had accepted _your_ advances, Potter would have been _Black_."  

With features that were darkening, Sirius hissed, "I wouldn't know, would I? Lily and I had an understanding."

"Of course, Black. Keep telling yourself that and maybe your ego won't completely disappear."

Harry tugged on his godfather's arm, his face worried. Whenever the two ended up in the same room, they usually left either spitting out insults at each other or actually fighting. Physically. Sometimes magically. 

"Maybe you should tell that to yourself, Death Eater." 

Once the words had left his mouth, Remus gasped, his face whitening. Dumbledore pushed himself between Sirius and Severus, knowing that it was the only thing that would keep Severus from hurling several damaging hexes at Sirius. 

Arabella's face was thunderous, and she threw a look that clearly said, "I told you so" to Dumbledore. With a haughty sniff, she took a painfully rigid Snape by the arm and led him out. He was staring hard at Sirius and his gaze slid, liquid-like, to Remus who was now berating Sirius below his breath. 

Remus must have felt his gaze because he turned, and for one, turbulent moment, their eyes locked. 

And broke.

~*~ FINIS ~*~

Notes:

**1 –** This particular Lucius Malfoy belongs to Priestess of Avalon, creator of one of the few Lucius' that I actually like. Do go and read her fics; you'll find baby!Draco, angsty!Snape, sly!Remus, non-sadistic!Lucius, even… vampires! *grin* One of my favorites – everyone can find it in my favorite authors

**2 – **Fierce principles? ^__^ That comes from the desk calendar that described Severus Snape on one of the days. My favorite page so far. I've kept it in my HP folder. 

**3 –** Actually, I'm pretty sure he didn't need a new leg, but this was a nod to a the "Darkness and Light" series, where Severus Snape and Maud Moody are in love. Fantastic series and I absolutely love the side-fic where a little romance (albeit sadly-ended) between Alastor Moody and another female character was played out. 

4 – Almost a direct line from Obake's lovely Draco/Harry fic, "All Torn Down". Quite beautiful and it's one of my favorite Draco-turns-his-back-on-his-family fic. The line's a nod to Draco's own trials toward Dumbledore's side, highlighting my own preoccupation with Pansy Parkinson. 

**5 – **In Seeker's fic, "Choice", it's a lovely bit of Remus and Severus… especially the shagging that ensues at the end. I was crying when I first read it, and I loved the line that described Severus going back to the darkness in order to fight Voldemort. 

**6 – **A nod to JayKay's third part in the Wicked Game series. It's the part where Dumbledore finally clears up the twenty-year old mystery to Snape; why didn't he enact justice then? One of my favorite scenes in the series. The whole incident actually happens to be my favorite subject to work around. ^__^

This part took less time then part 2… and yet, was longer… Hm. That's quite odd. I'm not completely happy with this chapter. I don't know why, but it just doesn't feel right so far. *shrugs* But it's alright for now. If I have to make a drastic change, I'll inform everyone with capital letters. 

*winces* Sorry to the ones who are waiting for the more intense Severus and Remus moments. I'm working my way there, and this is just the usual, monotonous. plot building. *sigh* I've enjoyed writing about Draco and Harry… but definitely, they're not my sort of couple. They're immensely hard to write about, and I find myself indulging in Sevvie and Remus scenes in my mind.

I'm still planning to do a set of series that will revolve around the major couples in this fic and how they got together This fic will be the base and there'll be one for Draco and Harry, Hermione and Ron, and Percy and Oliver. There'll be others, since I'm still looking for a semi-compatible guy/girl for Pansy, but no one suitable is turning up… I'm considering Sirius… but he has this deep-rooted hatred of Slytherins and Death Eaters… so that probably won't work. 

H/D and R/Hr will be the normal fare, but I intend to make Percy and Oliver work for their relationship. *evil grin* Lots o' angst and pain. Heh heh heh. 

Thank you Reviewers!

**Franthephoenix** – Thank you! I was hoping to make it as real as possible, since I know the feeling. All-out slash where everyone in Gryffindor and their Uncle's are gay and snogging like rabbits. ^__^ I like slash, but to an extent. Melancholy? Darn… it's going to get a lot darker, with random spurts of insanity and glee. It'll be reminiscent of a the psychedelic roller coaster.

**ThreeOranges **– The Pansy and Hermione tension will come into play later. I'm rather annoyed with Rowling to have included only one female heroine… with everyone either being a shrieky bitch or a gossipy busybody. Has anyone noticed that? Except for the adults, all the kids are basically portrayed in three ways. Cute and sweet (Cho and Ginny), smart and bossy (Hermione and Penelope), or bitchy and gossipy (Parvarti, Lavender, and Pansy). *makes face* Makes me annoyed. But thanks for reviewing! I'll dedicate the eventual Hermione-Pansy chapter to you! ^_^

**Cassi Hunter **– I will! The next part will be out within a week or two. Depends on how much I write and how fast. Also depends on my mood and what fanfics I've been reading. ^__^ Thanks for your review!

**Youko Gingitsune – **Remus won't do a thing. But they'll end up together. *grin* That's all I'll reveal. 

**Shinigami – **I wouldn't call her a 'good girl'. She still has all her Slytherin traits and much of her original personality. To take those away, it would be the same as creating an Original Character. She'll be as nasty as ever… but that's as soon as she can start coping. 

**Slytherin Mud Blood** – The flower was a suggestion from my sis, since she loves the language of flowers. As for Hermione… it was partially a nod to the slash community and our odd fixation on two men shagging each other senseless. 

**Sushi** – You're prophetic, aren't you? I had written that bit about Hermione admitting to being considered for Slytherin before I had seen your review… and yikes, my eyebrows just went to the ceiling. She's as ambitious as hell (as is Percy) and I believe that Rowling may expand on that later in the series. ^___^ More outtakes are good! Veeeeeeerrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy good. ^__^ I read the sequel thingy; I was sobbing before I realized he was still alive. Ya bitch. ^__^ You know I love you. *evil cackle*

**Tinderblast** – *beams* I've been rereading each chapter before sending it out. I've also got a fa-bu-lous beta. Zebee, sweetie! I love you! *cheers* I've taken down the Smart Quote function on my Word, so the problem should be fixed… but I'm not completely sure it'll do that. Since I view all of FF.net on PC, it tends to look perfect from my comp, so I had no idea it was so messed up for apple and macs. Anyhoo; you like the post-Marauder relationship? That was my favorite part to write. I was always kind of disgusted with the idea of Sirius being the "Sex God". It just means so many things. It also adds on to my personal little list of reasons why I don't like Sirius… *sigh* Of course, I like him more after writing "The Survivors", but he'll never be on my top Twenty list. ****

**Silver Goddess** – "All-around nasty guy" he is. Snape will forever be ingrained in my mind as the one who bespoke in that silky voice… the one that makes every Gryffindor within a mile radius, keel with shock. ^__^ Thanks!

**Kate **– Auugh! *runs and covers head* I'm done! I'm done! *grins* I'm writing generally faster than usual. I'm lengthening the parts so as to get maximum viewing pleasure. ^__^

Thanks to all ya cool reviewers! 

For all those joining in, read (obviously) and review! Reviews leave me in a cheery mood… will then write fluff fics to appease those moods. ^__^

Demeter


	4. Bamboo and Butterflies

**La Symphonie d'Amour**

**Demeter**

**Part 4: Bamboo and Butterflies**

**Disclaimer:** All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are trademarks and property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The original story and characters and relationships within the fic belong to Demeter.

**Warnings:** Slash. This part deals with something rather squicky (in my opinion). Beware. 

**Dedication:** For my fellow Slytherin-fans out there

~*~*~*~*~*~

A minute dust spread, barely allowing a whisper of powder to drift slowly to the liquid, dotting the bubbling surface that seemed to be made of pure liquid sapphires. Within a breath, hardly even a reaction, the liquid washed clean, and bled to silver, the color of the pale moonlight. 

Wolfsbane Potion. 

The one creation that could prevent a werewolf from succumbing to its baser bloodlust, the one blend of herbs, poisons, liquids, and animal parts that any self-respecting _beast_ would give a vital limb to take each month. 

And Severus Snape was one of the few Potions Masters who had the ability of concocting such a draught. He was gifted beyond imagination, beyond words in the fine art of potions making. 

Which was why he was brewing another batch in the middle of the night, when he should have been attempting to get some much-needed sleep. Snorting, Snape started methodically storing the potion into smaller cauldrons and magically casting tiny fires below each one to keep it at a low, constant boil. 

When everything finally was in order (never _seemed_, because it was vitally important for it to always _be_ and_ was_) he allowed himself to rest in a high-backed chair. Surveying the draught with an impassive air, he brooded on the fact that he was still making the potion when he had the right, the absolute right, to refuse to do anything for the man – no, make that _animal_ – who had tried to maul him to death as a student. 

A bitter bark escaped his lips before he could control the involuntary shudder that ripped through the core of his being. There were times he could still feel the fetid breath of the werewolf as it's jaws snapped shut at the space where his leg had been moments before. Sometimes at a full moon, he would jerk awake, sweat streaming off his body as his nights dreamt darkly of flashing teeth, terrible growls, and the deadening realization that the werewolf had been no one other then Remus Lupin. 

James Potter had saved him that day.

Even if there were times Snape cursed the boy, the younger version of all Potters, for damning him to a life full of regret and pain. He had come back only to join the darkness… and then have Dumbledore save him again. Only this time, the debt would never be repaid. The long road yawned before him, and he wished at times, irrationally, that people would ask him whether he wanted to drink from the blood of innocents.

Standing up abruptly, he snatched a tall decanter of well-aged brandy and a heavy goblet, fully intent on getting drunk. He was done for the day; why not spend the rest of the night in a self-induced stupor?

With almost a melancholy air, he settled into his armchair, eyes resting on the crackling fire. After that little meeting between him and Black, Arabella had insisted on brewing him a batch of herbal tea, disregarding the fact that he was vehemently denying the need for it. Once again, that elicited a lecture about taking care of himself and 'try not kill yourself in the process'.

In the end, she had returned to her own quarters, after eliciting stern promises for as much rest as he could get. 

Which, by the looks of it, would be another sleepless night. 

The meeting hadn't revealed the worst of the situation. People were quietly dying left and right. Their deaths were usually heralded as gruesome accidents, but Snape knew. He knew better then anyone that everything was starting again. The same events that eventually dragged to climatic final at Godric's Hollow.

And as much as he loathed James Potter, he didn't want a similar situation to occur again. Didn't want another scenario that would cause confusion, pain, hatred, and ultimately, tears for Albus Dumbledore and Arabella Figg. He would have gladly seen Sirius Black to Azkaban, and he would have laughed, if not for the fact that Dumbledore would grieve. 

Cursing below his breath, he gazed absently into the crackling fire, thoughts growing morbid with fantasies of seeing Sirius Black hanging by his thumbs on a rack, stretched out in all his naked glory…

At first, the hesitant knocking sounded like all the rest of the noises an old castle would produce, so he automatically dismissed it. After all, not too many potential assassins knocked before entering their prey's chambers. When the sounds became more insistent, he looked up in irritation, rather annoyed that he had to be torn from his beloved alcohol.

Stalking toward the door, he flung it open to find, to his disgust, a sickeningly cheery Remus Lupin smiling up at him. With the sigh of one who has been pushed to the end of his rope, he asked, "What is it you want, Lupin?"

"Ah, nothing but for want of a chat. And I also need another dose."

With a soft oath that sounded suspiciously like a half-uttered hex, Snape scooped up an empty cup and ladled some of the steaming potion into it. The liquid sploshed against the sides, but with the practice of someone who spends most of his days with water-based concoctions, he managed to shove it rudely at Remus without spilling a single drop. 

Remus handled the goblet with care, his eyes crinkling up as the nauseating smell penetrated his sensitive nose glands. Inhaling, he swallowed the entire draught with a hastiness that brought an involuntary smile to Snape's face. Turning away to hide the smirk, he busied himself with pouring another glass of brandy for Remus. It was only polite after all. 

Remus was still coughing slightly in the aftermath, but already, the color was returning to his face, and the redness did him a world of good, as the sickening warmth swept from his throat to his stomach, and burned his inner organs with fiery heat that left him slightly shaky on his legs.

Firm hands pushed him down into the nearest chair, and for once, Remus was glad for the professional way Snape treated him lately. It was helpful to have a Potions Master who had the skills to even make the draught, but he was insanely lucky that the man was pragmatic with his 'patients'.  

"Ah… thank you, Severus." With a small smile, he settled himself comfortably into his chair, accepting the stiffly offered brandy with a grateful gleam in his eyes. Sipping the burning liquid, he carefully watched Snape from the corner of his eyes.

The man was moving gracefully around the room, cleaning up his latest encounter with the Wolfsbane Potion. Intermittently, he would take a sip of his brandy, but otherwise, Remus could only watch his impassive face with heaviness in his chest and with a slightly nauseating guilt in his stomach. 

"Lupin, is there anything else you require?" Snape asked, his voice most assuredly disinterested. 

_You_, Remus wanted to shout, but he swallowed the word and with a shake of his head, he said, "I was feeling slightly restless, and I had figured that you would have my potion done. I… was hoping we could talk a little."

"About what?"

Remus paused. He hadn't expected that Snape would actually be patient enough to want to know the topic of discussion. "Er… I was hoping… you could tell me… about your life."

The words had come out almost absently, and he didn't realize the grave mistake he had made until Snape spun on him from his curiously frozen self and snarled, "You, of all people, should know about my _life_." With that spat out, he viciously turned away. 

"I- oh- I didn't mean that. It came out all wrong. I mean, I wanted to know what you did in the past couple of years since I… ah… left Hogwarts." Remus conveniently left out the little part where he had been forced to leave since a certain someone had revealed to everyone that he was a werewolf. 

Snape didn't answer, but with an irritable wave of his hand, he said, "What do you think? I've been teaching these imbecile children from the time their snotty eleven years olds, watching their hormonal antics when they hit adolescence, and then watching them go off one by one to die."

There was a poignant pause.

"Severus… not all the Slytherins who leave this school dies." He tried to be as gentle and non-confrontational as he could, but Snape was in a foul mood. 

A very foul one. 

"No?" Marching over to his desk, he snatched a piece of parchment from it and thrust the length at Remus. 

Remus took it with cautious hands, and scanning over the paper, his eyes widened. From what he could deduce, these were all names from Slytherin house. Children who had already graduated. Children who were adults now. His brows furrowing, he looked up at Snape and asked, 'Severus… what is this?" 

"Every student." Snape sounded distant now, his dark eyes staring into a place apparently only he could see.

"Every student?"

"Every one of my students. All Slytherins."

Remus studied the names again. He recognized a few, such as Marcus Flint from his teaching stint at Hogwarts, but most, if not all, were complete enigmas. "Where are they now?"

"In hell."

There was an involuntary gasp before Remus could control himself. "What? Severus?"

"These are the ones I couldn't save."

When the morbid silence washed over the room, Remus realized with startling clarity that Snape was imparting something sacred to him. He was being allowed to see into a piece of Snape's soul, the part that grieved continuously about his students, and Remus found himself oddly touched. 

"You can't save a student who doesn't want to be saved."

Snape moved restlessly around the room, his feet pacing deliberately in constant steps. "Oh, don't think I lament like some sentimental fool. Some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved." (1)

Remus nodded slowly, golden eyes filled with understanding. Pausing, he debated whether to speak his mind. He was risking everything if his words hit closer to the truth then Snape was comfortable with… but between the choice of a possible relationship and the chance to have Severus reduce some of his self-hatred, he would rather Snape loathe him forever.

"You still blame yourself, though. I know you do. It wouldn't be Severus Snape if you didn't."

Snape snorted. "And how would you know?" Dark eyes narrowed themselves at hazel.

Remus only smiled. With another glance at the sheet, he asked, "Are you sure they've all gone to Voldemort?"

For a moment, Remus thought Snape wouldn't answer, but a bitter laugh rang out dark and true. "Gone to Voldemort? I have separate list for those students."

"Then… these are…?"

"Even you can't guess? I suppose my old skills of silent communication have somewhat faded." Snape stared at Remus for a few seconds, before snatching the paper back, the anger burning bright in his eyes. "You fool! Can't you see! Don't you read that blasted tabloid, the Prophet?"

"Severus… I can't afford the Prophet."

"Then you should have heard! That's all those backstabbing, prejudiced cretins talk about! How Slytherin's are an evil group of would-be Death Eaters!" Remus still felt mystified. With a slow shake of his head, Snape closed his eyes, as if his mind pained him.

"They're dead."

Utter silence greeted that cold, lifeless statement. 

Remus wet suddenly dry lips, before trying to speak in a low voice. "Severus. I…"

"They're all dead. Even Marcus Flint. I had tried my hardest to save them, and they couldn't be saved. They died with tears on their faces. Some died with brands on their arms. Some with madness in their eyes. Others because of hatred and grief. No one can save a Slytherin who is determined to die. But by then, few would care." 

Barely breathing, Remus could tell that Snape no longer even realized that he was speaking to someone he used to loathe and fear. He had disappeared into his own nightmare, speaking to the air, if anything at all.

"I watched some of them die in front of my eyes. They screamed. Some cried for me to help. Others begged for their parents to save them. The blasted Ministry doesn't ever seem to realize that the Slytherins often die the earliest. The easiest. The slowest. I told them to give up the mark. I did my job and warned them. I warned them about Voldemort's dangers. And they listened to me." Snape paused.

Not wanting to stop this seemingly delicate and endless cycle of grief, Remus sat perfectly still, never taking his soft, gold-flecked eyes off the Potions Master.

"That list is my damnation. Every single name on there is the name of a student, of a child who had been under my tutelage. It's true. What Gryffindors say: most Slytherins do go to Voldemort."

"No… that's not true, Severus."

"It is. I did. Lucius did. Every single student of my year did. We made the choice. I was a coward and returned to Dumbledore. And how about the students now? Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Millicent, they may have turned their backs on their families, but how about other students? How about those who don't?"

With a gentle voice, Remus answered quietly, "And perhaps, in a few months time, they will make the same choice you did. To come back."

Remus allowed a silence to stretch long and thin. 

Standing up abruptly, the moment was lost. Snape busied himself with organizing the sparse contents of the room, obviously indicating that their conversation was over. Seeing that Snape looked rather ill at all he had revealed, Remus didn't dare push. He started speaking of the school, of a few students, the latest bits of gossip drifting in from Hogsmeade, and for a few moments, there was peace.

A growl sounded from the door, and Remus looked up to see Padfoot scamper in. Nudging the heavy door close with his nose and body, he shimmered for a second before shifting back into his human form. With a scowl, he said, "Remus, I'm here to get you."

Snape turned to see a sulky-looking Sirius Black lounging in the door and he rolled his eyes. For a moment, Remus cursed his best friend. Of all the inopportune moments to show up! Veiling back his frustrated sigh, he said, "In a moment." Turning back to Snape, he said, "I'll speak to you later, Severus."

Sirius snorted. "C'mon Remus. Don't tell me you really want to hang around this git." His blue eyes glittered, and Remus could tell he was itching for a fight. Alarmed, he leapt up between the two and within moments, he was hurriedly calling a goodbye to Severus and forcing Sirius into the hallway. Sirius transformed back to his dog form, but with a gum-baring growl, Remus could tell his friend was angry.

Bending forward until their eyes were matched, Remus said, "You promised, Paddy. Me and Dumbledore. You said that you would work with Severus and that your grudges would be put aside! For heaven's sake, we're in the middle of a war, and you still hate Severus for what he tried to do to you? And no less then what you did to him. Call it fair and even and let it go."

Padfoot whined softly, and Remus could see the hurt in the dark brown eyes before the dog started slinking off with his tail between his legs. 

With an exasperated sigh, Remus hurried after him. "Padfoot, stop! No, don't go running off to find Harry so you can lick your wounds.  You know what I said was true. And I'm sorry it hurts you, but please, Padfoot. For me, alright?"

The Animagus turned toward him with a reproaching glare, but with a barely noticeable nod, he sat down on his haunches. Remus smiled and then ruffled the fur on Padfoot's neck. Gesturing toward their chambers, they entered and Sirius morphed back into his human self. 

The two settled down for an early evening. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

If Sirius had intended to anger Severus Snape, he obviously was starting to lack in insults. Snape found himself far more amused then sulky with whatever anger Sirius had hoped to plant in his expression. 

Surprisingly, after that talk with Remus, he felt immensely better. There was something about Remus that gave him a great deal of peace. He usually didn't dwell on those thoughts, but when he did, there was always the stray, wistful thought of _if…_

Shaking his head in consternation, Snape set away the last of his implements and realizing that he had actually grown tired, he glided toward his bedroom, with all intentions of sleeping for once. He hadn't been lying to Dumbledore when he had excused himself for the night. He _was_ tired.

~*~*~*~*~

_So much for sleep._

Snape's nerves were frazzled and he could barely keep from snarling at the ever-cheerful Lottie Sprout who flopped down next to him. She beamed before sweeping off her wide-brimmed, pointed hat and set it on the table before her. He ignored her effusive ramblings, instead, concentrating on his coffee, with a generous dose of his own interpretation of the muggle concoction of 'caffeine'. 

The day had been an annoying mix of messed-up Potions and giggly children. He had barely managed to make his way through dinner when Dumbledore just _had _to announce so cheerfully that all professors were to attend a mandatory meeting. 

Sipping the hot liquid, he settled deeper into his robes and watched the rest of the staff and faculty stroll in. The meeting was specifically about Lupin and Black. 

Wrinkling his nose, he tore his eyes away from the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor (A witch who was an old friend of Dumbledore's and who had the most annoying name of Mary Sue (2)) and tried to ignore the warm heat that curled from his stomach to his toes. The same curl that always seemed to appear out of nowhere when he thought of Remus Lupin and for some reason, noted the little streaks of gray in the deep brown. 

_You both won't be young forever_.

Almost sticking his tongue out at that thought, he cleared his mind as he went back to nursing his precious coffee. (3)

Minerva primly set herself into his other vacant side, long resigned to the fact that if no one else sat by Snape, then Lottie, who for some odd reason was fond of the 'boy', would be the only one since everyone else shied away from his sharp tongue. And the Gryffindor in her just couldn't let him sit all forlorn and alone. And she had to admit, she considered him one of the few who matched her own intelligence.

Seeing that there would be a little time before the staff meeting started, she turned to Snape, intent on being polite even if they did disagree on a few items of interest. "Severus, how are you?"

He glared at her. 

"Fine, I see." She always found that after talking to the dour Potions Master, she was often brighter. A guilty pleasure, but one she enjoyed wringing. 

"Some of your Slytherins have been acting up. If it's possible, could talk to them for me? I'd rather not take so many points away."

"Names?"

"Baddock and Pritchard are leading them, but some of the young ones are going along."

Snape nodded brusquely, but inwardly he was groaning. Those two were pretty much already on the Death Eater road. He didn't like writing them off just yet, but they were closer to the dark side rather then Hogwarts. As for the younger kids, he would have a talk with them…

Dumbledore sat jovially at the head of the great staff table and called for everyone's attention with sparks flying from his wand. "Ah, thank you, thank you!" Beaming, he directed his attention to the middle where, with a wave of his gnarled hand, two tiny figures appeared. Snape glared again. 

It was Lupin and Black.

"As all of you know, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black are with us at the moment. I also trust that all of you have cleared Sirius Black from his wrongdoings in your mind, since the truth has been discovered."

Everyone nodded. Some still had inklings of doubt on their faces, but in the light of Dumbledore's confidence, that particular emotion seemed to seep away. Clapping, silence reigned again. 

"And of course, they will be staying at Hogwarts for a duration. Professor Snape has kindly provided them living space in the dungeons."

All eyes turned toward him, and he resisted the barely held-back urge of hexing everyone in the room. There were some amused glances, but others were placid and agreeable. The older professors seemed to accept this with great equanimity, but the young ones, including Audrey Sinistra and Whilky Pone, the new Muggle Studies teacher, seemed disbelieving. 

"The point is that no one is sure of how long they should be here. The reason I asked them to come in the first place was that Hogwarts needed some extra wards placed on the fields outside. Sirius and Remus have handled that adequately, and I feel we should keep them for a few more weeks."

Snape stared at Dumbledore in shock. He had told him that they were only to be there for a few days! Days! DAYS! With a great deal of anger in his voice, he ground out, "They should leave. They have no business in the castle anymore."

McGonagall huffed, outraged. "Sirius and Remus need our protection as much as we need their help! I vote we let them stay as long as Mr. Potter is here."

"Black is still a wanted man! If he were to stay, anyone who didn't know the _truth_…" He let the word trail off with a snort, obviously still doubting the sanity of those who thought that Sirius _wasn't_ an accused murderer. He arched one eye at McGonagall, daring her to argue.

And that she did.

"But Sirius didn't do what he did! And besides, he'll be in his Animagus state the entire time except for when he's with Remus or with one of us! He's been careful so far, and I doubt that anyone will dare to think that the dog is Sirius Black."

Snape snorted. "And if someone finds out?"

She waved a hand impatiently. "I thought I just cleared that up. I doubt anyone will find out as long as Sirius stays in his Animagus form."

"What happens if someone does?"

"Severus! You're being unreasonable. Surely you can see the positive aspects of Remus and Sirius staying. Added protection to say the least." McGonagall eyed him before speaking to the entire table. "I believe also that Mr. Potter needs his godfather nearby. Lucius Malfoy is still trying to get into Hogwarts for his son."

Snape glared at her and then sulked. She knew his eternal softest of soft spots was Draco Malfoy. Mention him and he would just melt into a puddle of snarkily agreeing Slytherin. From the corner of his eye, he saw Vector chuckle, and he latched onto her instead. "And what the hell are you laughing about?" 

Mildred Vector just laughed harder. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she goaded him gently. "You, Severus. You're too protective of the Malfoy boy."

With a small groan, he leaned back into his chair and ignored the snickers that passed from professor to professor. After his fondness for Draco had been discovered, the other faculty had found his angry-snarl routine almost funny. Glowering, he pretended not to feel Sprout pat his hand with mild amusement. Turning back to Dumbledore with a huff in his eyes, he dared the old man say anything. 

Silvery-blue eyes only twinkled before knocking on the table. "Then it's settled. Sirius and Remus will remain with us for the duration of the year."

Snape groaned. The words broke up the meeting and most stood up to leave.

When the black burning started.

With a small shriek, he stumbled and the mark on his arm pulsed with dark energy. Gritting his teeth, he ground his hand into the scar and with a ruthless gnaw of his lip he waited out the agony. He hadn't cried over the pain since the first time it burned, and he wouldn't start now. Not even for irrationality. 

Around him, startled voices were seeping into his concentration, but all he could focus on was the throbbing in his arm, and what he would have to face after the pain stopped. There was no doubt that Voldemort wanted them all gathered immediately. He could _feel_ the rage and amusement crawl up and down his arm like hundreds of poisonous spiders.  

As the agony subsided, he stood shakily from his crouched position, his eyes glazing over as his eyes connected with Dumbledore's. The twinkle had disappeared, and worry was coloring his wrinkled face. Snape managed to rasp out, "He's calling." With that, several gasped. McGonagall lost all color in her face before she managed to help him onto his feet, while Sprout hopped around him, her eyes worried. 

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes growing grave. Snape stood and immediately went out in search for the other person who he needed to help bring with him to the meeting. This would be her first time aside from the initiation, and her parents had specifically asked him to escort her safely to the site. 

He could only hope that she was alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Pansy was studying her essay on _Vampires and Their Reason for Existence_, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why her second paragraph didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the words. Picking up her quill, she reluctantly crossed off the paragraph and continued perusing through the rest of the sixteen-inch essay. With luck, she could be done editing within an hour and could start on rewriting it on a fresh piece of parchment. 

The library had grown crowded and deserted, depending on the minute on the hour, the time of day, and the amount of work due. She had deliberately selected a table in one of the shadowy corners. The rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor that had died down due to Draco and Harry's rather abrupt bond had drawn rifts within Slytherin itself and in the dawn of the Quidditch season, they might as well have thrown in the book.

The two had agreed that their relationship wouldn't carry on to the Quidditch field and when the Snitch was in question, war was inevitable. Never liking the game much, she chose to keep a low profile during the intense hostilities for the Quidditch Cup. 

Of course, that still didn't prevent many members of the other houses from making nasty remarks. 

Setting her quill down, she allowed for a moment of rest, rubbing fatigued eyes. It was a wonder that Hermione could be Head Girl and still keep up perfect grades. There were times when Pansy felt so envious, so jealous of the Gryffindor's seemingly effortless ways of claiming the top throne, of being the _best_ no matter what circumstances she was in. 

Biting her lip, she quelled such dark thoughts with a guilty and heavy sigh. Pansy rolled her parchment up and moved onto something new for thought. Her lab for Professor Snape still needed a little tweaking here and there, while her lengthy scroll on the turbulent history of Divination was almost done. 

The sound of someone dropping into the seat across from her brought her head up and she smiled briefly at Millicent, who looked as tired as she was. Millicent's own parents had refused to let her take the mark, and for the all-too brief moment, she was safe. 

"Working again?" A small smile touched pale lips. 

"You know Professor Snape. He won't be happy until everything is perfect." Pansy set her quill down and tilted her head to check where the sun was. Noting that the sun had already settled halfway into its sleepy bed of mountains, she stretched, arms rising in a cracking arc. "So late already?"

Millicent nodded absently. "The Gryffindorks are acting up again. One of the Slytherin first years came in crying."

Pursing her lips, Pansy started gathering her things. For a moment, there was pensive silence. She then broke it with bitter words. "And I gather the reason she was crying was because no one defended her."

Millicent had slight rebuke in her eyes. "Pansy, you know they couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because… because they're only first years. They'll learn."

"If they don't die first."

"Pansy!"

She sighed and then slipped everything into her book bag. "I'm sorry. I'm just… edgy I suppose." People were talking. There were rumors. And it didn't help that her parents had written her twice already, asking about what her sacrifice to Voldemort would be. Every Death Eater newly initiated was expected to present something of immense value to Voldemort. Not jewels or gold or even an arm or leg. It was to be deeply personal. 

And Pansy was at a loss. 

What _could_ she give?

Millicent glanced at her friend from the corner of her eyes, as the two walked toward Slytherin Tower. The year had been long so far. She had been spared the worst by the protection of her parents. They had chosen to step away, even though they were ancient purebloods. 

From when she was young, they had encouraged her to show what a Slytherin could do. She had entered Slytherin and with nimbleness, she had worn the mask that nearly all Slytherins wore. No one had known of her alliance until Draco had turned his back on his father. Her parents had been so ebullient that day. If a _Malfoy_, the family reputed to be directly born of the ancient Slytherin line, the bloodline fraught with old hate and prejudices, if _they_ could turn, then _anyone _could.

The Bulstrodes wanted the world to know that not all pureblood Slytherins insisted on absolute cleanliness of lineage. Smiling involuntarily, Millicent remembered that her father even asked her rather excitedly if she was interested in any Gryffindors. Snorting, she shook her head as Pansy gave her a puzzled smile. 

_As if I would ever fall for a Gryffindork._

Millicent paused as she saw a group of Ravenclaws ahead of them. Nudging Pansy, she veered them slightly to the side so they could pass without touching or words. 

Of course, nothing ever happens so nicely.

One of the Ravenclaws, a face devoid of an inch of skin without makeup and smiles, looked down her nose at Millicent who flushed bright red. With a stinging bluntness, she knew she was what nice people considered plain. Not distinguished. Not stately. Not elegant. But rather plain. 

Pansy glared at the blue-eyed Ravenclaw and grabbed Millicent's hand. They were a few steps more down the hallway when a haughty voice followed them. 

"I suppose Slytherins move best in the shadows."

Millicent whirled around, a sharp retort on her tongue. "Well, it's better then dusty Ravenclaws who spend all their time with their noses stuck in a book."

"Better then a Slytherin who acts like a whore."

Pansy snorted. "Is that the best you can come up with? Better then a Ravenclaw who fucks anything that moves."

The girl paled as she turned away, tears brightening her eyes. One of the boys clenched his fists and ground out, "Better then a Slytherin who's going to kill us all!"

Pansy froze. The mark on her arm seemed all the more virulent. Swallowing convulsively, one hand strayed up involuntarily to clutch at her arm, and one of the Ravenclaws noticed. His eyes widened and quickly ran back to her face. With a small shriek, he screamed, "Death Eater!"

Everyone froze.

Millicent's mouth was hanging open. With a shrill cry, she lashed back, "Liar! You're a fucking liar! Leave her alone!" With that, she tugged on Pansy's arm and the two were moving quickly down the hallway when the boy came after them and grasped onto Pansy's other arm. _Hard._ He yanked with enough force so that Pansy jerked across the stone and slipped with a startled cry to the ground. With a ruthless shove, he threw Millicent, who had started screaming, against the wall. She connected with sickening thud and her wand clattered against the ground, the smooth bark cracking. Her body lay ragged on the ground as she attempted to regain her breath.

There were several frightened shrieks for him to stop, but he straddled Pansy's body, and his face, crimson with hatred, forced her flailing body down. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and Pansy found it so repugnant that she dug her heels into the floor to try to knee him the back. She wasn't a Slytherin for nothing. 

With a small scream, his hand came flying out of nowhere and slapped her across the face. 

Too stunned to do anything, not even grab her wand and hex him into oblivion, she could only lay there stunned as the hand came up for another blow across her other cheek. Distantly, she could hear Millicent's sobs and see arms trying to pull to boy off. Another blow cut her lip and she felt blood smear across her cheek. The metallic taste melted into her mouth, causing her to gag and he pulled back his hand to deliver a crushing blow to her face… 

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" The words were roared and the boy stiffened and fell to his side, his eyes wide and still wild with rage. 

Pansy curled onto her side, coughing as the pain came back in a rushing wave of agony. Her face was burning and it stun as if someone had lit a fire on the tender skin. Millicent was suddenly beside her, face deathly white. With a choking sob, she hurriedly brought out a handkerchief and dabbed at the blood. 

Hermione stood beside them, her face dark and forbidding. With a sharp iciness to her voice, one that none of the Ravenclaws had ever heard before, she ordered, "_Finite Incantatum_. Who the hell are you?"

The boy seemed to have regained his senses, because with a shuddering gasp, he glanced at Pansy, and as if realizing what he did, he sobbed and buried his face in one of his friend's shoulders. 

"Do you have any idea what you were doing?" Hermione spoke in a low, deadly tone. With one hand, she waved brusquely. "Doesn't matter. Fifty points from Ravenclaw." A gasp. "And more if any of you come near a Slytherin like that again. You." She pointed at the boy who had lost his senses and nearly snarled, "You will report to the Headmaster. And you will tell him everything you did right now. If I find out that you didn't, I will personally inform Professor Snape about this incident." She glared at him until he nodded, a numb look on his face. "Go!"

The group scrambled, but one of the Ravenclaws stopped, turned, and her face was tight with anger… and there was just a hint of guilt. "This is their fault. His father was killed by Death Eater scum!" She spat out the last few words as if it was dirty, and with a violent look at Pansy, she fled the scene. 

Hermione exhaled, her breath gusty. Turning to a silent Pansy, she kneeled next to her. She pulled out her wand and started casting healing spells when Pansy's hand shot up and knocked her wrist away. Hermione glanced at her with a startled glare. 'What are you doing? I need to heal those bruises!"

Pansy stood and brushed her robes off. Millicent followed slowly, her lips pressed together into a thin line. Her blue eyes locked with Hermione's and with an icy, regal tone, she murmured, "I'm perfectly fine. I need no help from a Gryffindor."

Hermione's mouth fell slack. "Are you still acting that way? Get real! We're on the same side!"

"Same side or not, I still need no help."

"Fine!" Hermione huffed, "If you don't want my help, you don't need it. You can get someone else to heal those cuts on your face." She glared at the Slytherin, and Millicent glanced up and down the deserted hallway with an edgy look on her face.

"Listen, let's do this somewhere else. It's not-" She was cut off by an unearthly shriek, one that echoed with agony, promised darkness, and was above all, damning.

Pansy fell to the ground, writhing in red-hot pain. Tears crept from her eyes and she gasped raggedly, feeling as though she was unable to breathe. Clutching at the mark on her arm, she pulled her sleeve up to look at the scar. She sobbed once, twice, as she, Hermione, and Millicent saw the mark burn blacker then pitch, tainting her arm like a ominous smear of death. 

"Pansy!" Hermione was at a loss for words, and with a wide-eyed look of horror at the mark, she quickly racked her mind for the proper protocol. She had _known_ that this would eventually happen, but it still wasn't enough. She wasn't prepared to handle something of this magnitude yet. Hissing, she cast a pain-killing charm, with no effect. Feeling tightly controlled hysteria start to well up in her, she cast whatever helpful spells and still, Pansy was staring at something she couldn't see, something Hermione didn't _want to ever see_. 

Swallowing, she tugged on Millicent's arm and whispered worriedly, "We have to do something!"

"What?" Millicent shrieked. With a small cry, she shook Pansy's shoulders. "Pansy! Pansy, look at me!"

Tears were rolling down Pansy's pale cheeks, and she started rocking back and forth, her entire body shaking with pain. The mark _hurt._ There was no other description for soul-ripping, grinding _hurt_. There was no other reason then the Dark Lord was calling. He was marking them with _his_ anger and vile hatred. He wanted them to come to _him_. 

Hermione looked around frantically, and when she was about to scream for help, she saw Professor Snape's dark figure swoop in. With a grateful gasp, she said, "Professor! Thank Merlin you're here! Something's wrong! She started convulsing like she was under deep pain! Professor, what's wrong with her?" Wrong, wrong, wrong. She knew _exactly_ what was wrong. 

He latched one stormy eye on her, and she quieted immediately. "Ms. Granger, Ms. Bulstrode; return to your respective Towers. I will handle Ms. Parkinson. You will tell no one of this." His curt words might have just as well flown over their heads for all they did to follow his instructions. 

But he ignored their presence. His attention was focused on person and one person only. A slim, strong arm went around her waist and he lifted Pansy to her feet, no compassion in his movements. They were sure and hard. She had to learn, if not now, then never. 

"Pansy. Look at me. You cannot cry over the mark anymore. Do you understand? You _cannot_ cry." His harsh words seemed to cut through her fog of anguish and dark blue eyes glanced up, tears springing fresh into them. He continued, his voice softer, but no less inflexible. "They will only see your tears as a weakness. They will not pity you or help. Remember. You are _alone_ when we are gathered in front of the Dark Lord!"

Pansy shuddered, but with a silent acquiescence on her lips, she nodded. With that the two turned toward the entrance of Hogwarts. Snape looked back, his eyes sharp. Nodding once to Millicent, she shook her head in answer. With a fathomless cloud shading his features, he jerked his head upwards. Millicent nodded and then turned to go, seemingly oblivious of Hermione trailing after her, figure confused and worried. 

"They're going to meet Voldemort aren't they?"

Millicent stopped in her tracks, her body growing rigid. Pivoting on her heel, she looked at Hermione with hateful intensity in her eyes. Hermione withstood the scrutinizing and gazed back, unwilling to show any lack of courage in front of what she had just seen. 

"Granger. Let me tell you. I will never like you. I will never like Gryffindors. I only tolerate Potter because Draco loves him, for what reason I will never know. But hear this: where Pansy goes, I will never be able to say with all certainty. But if you or _anyone_ dares to hurt her, I'll make sure you all suffer. Azkaban would be a small price." The hatred made her implied threats even worse, and Hermione watched her carefully, and then nodded with a brusque jerk of her head. 

Murmuring, she said, "I'll make sure the Ravenclaws know about that."

"And the Hufflepuffs. And the Gryffindors."

With a falter, she murmured, "You know she is what she is." Millicent's eyes darkened and she was about to speak when Hermione put up a hand to stop her words. "No, listen. I can't protect her. It would seem too odd… I can only say that no one is to treat his or her peers like that. There are spies… you know as well as I do. It would be suicide to warn anyone to stay away from Pansy."

Biting her lips, Millicent burned, rage clear and shining in her expression. "Because she's a Slytherin, it would seem odd for a _Gryffindor Head girl to protect her… but if it was from any other house, it would been fine, is that it?"_

"… Yes. That's the truth. I'm sorry. But even if you and I know differently, others don't."

With an anguished choke, Millicent turned away. For a moment, Hermione thought the girl would run away from the scene or start crying. But once again, she underestimated how strong some of the Slytherin children were. Millicent placed her mask back onto her face and with a smoothness that would have seemed to be breaking point for others… it was merely another stop on a long, hard road for her. 

"I understand." Her blunt words brought Hermione up to spec and for a moment, she could see Millicent, perhaps the real one. The one that had been brought up in terror, in fear, in the desperate pain that she, as a Gryffindor and muggle-born, could never understand. 

Millicent moved quickly down the hallway and in turning a corner, she disappeared. 

Hermione stood for a while, alone except for the occasional creak in the stones. With a distant thought, she realized that all the paintings in the hallway were looking at her rather sympathetically. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

With a small gust of wind, the two appeared silently on the outskirts of the gathering group of Death Eaters. Beforehand, Snape had already gathered their Death Eater regalia. Mask, cloak, even badge that indicated their position. That was the one sympathetic concession he had allowed Pansy. He knew she loathed to even spare one look at the uniform. 

She had dressed silently, emotionlessly, and he felt a sort of sick pride well up in him at the sight of her emotion-lacking eyes. Pansy was a true Slytherin, cunning and ambitious… just not the way her parents wanted her to be. 

Now hidden, the two advanced on the group, and he tensed as he saw Lucius sweep by them. Once one of the most senior Death Eaters, Draco's resistance had done much to reduce his former superiority. 

Pansy craned her neck unobtrusively. She didn't want to seem too eager, but she felt interest and anticipation well up in her, regardless of the fear. Noticing her father, she swallowed and pressed a bit closer to Snape. He glanced down at her diminished head and with a small, fatherly squeeze on her shoulder, it seemed to do much to alleviate her shakes. Pansy smiled gratefully up at him, even though she knew he had already turned away. 

"Death Eaters."

The drawl of one who had confidence and the tones of one who knew he _could _be confident. Pansy stared, enthralled, at the figure slowly alighting from a throne-like structure with grace and elegant flow. She didn't even realize when one of her hands clutched onto a piece of Snape's robe, didn't see him turn to her slightly with a questioning glint in his eye, didn't see the understanding bitterness follow the confusion. 

"The boy lives."

There was a hesitant silence before it grew ominous and several feet shuffled uncomfortably. 

"And his allies grow each day. One of our own, the darkest child has fled. Malfoy." Voldemort turned to his right, his face sadistically gleeful. 

"My Lord." Lucius bent to the ground and lifted Voldemort's robes to press stone-carved lips to the velvet.

"Since the last time I called, the thought of young Draco fleeing like the coward he is plagues me. How did a boy who was trained under your tutelage change so much?"

"There are aberrations in every line, my Lord," Lucius replied quietly, his silvery-blonde head still bowed humbly. 

"Ah, yes." Amused, Voldemort waved Lucius aside, and crawling on his knees, the older Malfoy went to the side, eyes shadowed and emotionless. "You will be breeding another heir?"

"As soon as I find a suitable vessel for the child."

Voldemort smiled now, a horrible, ghastly grin that filled Pansy with shaking dread. "Very well. Death Eaters, we have lost a few of our numbers to the wretched Ministry since we last convened. Morse. Shore. Dede. Sussex. These four were of our circle and they have died for our cause. Their deaths will be revenged once we have won this war against the Ministry!"

His words were met with a roar of approval and Pansy could see so many people nod their masked heads with emphatic agreement. Feeling troubled, she wondered whether there wasn't any truth to Voldemort's words. She still didn't like muggleborns. She knew it was being hypocritical to expect other people to accept her as a Slytherin when she was so adamantly set against muggles, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that they were inferior to wizards and witches 

"P…Professor?" Pansy whispered.

Snape turned to glance down at her. "Yes?"

"What he says… sometimes… sometimes I feel he makes sense…"

What she had expected was surprise and anger; what she got was understanding and agreement. "I'll tell you later."

She nodded and the two returned to watch a Death Eater standing up to pontificate about the worthiness of blood in the society. Voldemort was watching from his throne, a sunken cheek resting on a slim hand. His red eyes seemed bored, but otherwise, he appeared to be listening. 

When the Death Eater finished, Voldemort stood gracefully once more. With a sweep of his arm, a small, nervous-looking Death Eater approaching him. Pansy watched with avid curiosity as the man stumbled and appeared to blush wildly beneath his mask. Beside her, Snape swore softly. 

"Pettigrew."

Pansy's mouth grew slack. Pettigrew? The one who had died in the blast that had incriminated Sirius Black? The man that her parents practically worshipped? The Slytherin part of her mind immediately wandered back to The Order's meeting, and she remembered seeing a gaunt man with a mass of black hair that was sitting next to Lupin. If she knew her history correctly, Lupin had been a friend of Sirius Black's. And Dumbledore had mentioned him to her…

Snape grimaced and then murmured, "I'll explain afterwards."

"While we are close to our goal of taking Azkaban, the new Headmaster of Durmstrang is less then agreeable to our demands and he might be siding with the mudblood-loving fool, Dumbledore in this war. Determine among yourselves and find two who are to go to Durmstrang and convince the Headmaster that joining us will promise untapped glory." _And tell him the consequences for not receiving me._

The Death Eaters nodded as one, and it seemed that automatically, two had already been selected. 

A ring on Voldemort's hand gleamed dully in the light spells, and Pansy squinted to make out the insignia from where she was standing. She wasn't quite sure, but she was relatively certain that it was a serpent. Shuddering at the sudden chill that pervaded her, she ducked her head as his eyes roamed the crowd. 

"And lastly, Hogwarts."

Snape stiffened by her almost imperceptibly. 

"We have several spies there and one of our most valuable is a professor!" Voldemort laughed then, high and deep at the same time. Several shuffled their feet, but none dared to make a sound. "Hogwarts is our next target. Once the school falls, no one else will stand in our way. Remember that." There was a general agreement to the statement and Pansy felt her blood run cold. The school was the only safe haven left. For her and many others. 

Swallowing, she licked her dry lips and tried to stop her fingernails from biting into the flesh of her palm. 

"And that is all, Death Eaters. I have found this meeting tedious and I should think that no one would need for me to tell any of you this. Spread the word of Lord Voldemort. Let the wizarding world realize that I will brook no dissent." There was a reverence-filled hush and many bowed their heads. 

"Very well. Leave… except for Severus Snape and Miss Parkinson."

There was a loud gasp, and Pansy glanced around rather dazedly for the person who had made the noise before seeing that everyone was staring at her. She then realized that the noise had come from her own vocal chords. She distantly felt Snape clasp a hand on her shoulder, before seeing the group of Death Eaters part like a wave of rippling black. 

One by one, the Death Eaters Disapparated with a 'pop', and soon, she was one of the few left. Her father appeared at her side and removed his mask, a shining smile on his swarthy face. 

"Pansy! This is a great honor for our family! Do try not to mess it up." He smoothed her hair, arranged her scarf, and then with a tenderness she had never thought her father capable of, he cupped her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You do us proud, Pansy."

_Proud._ Dazed, she nodded slowly. At that exact moment, if he had asked her to stab a knife through her heart, she would have done it without a second thought. Pansy craned her neck to gaze at Professor Snape, a dark shadow crossing his face. Touching her on the back, he moved slowly backwards and stared edgily at Voldemort who was scrutinizing Pansy with an unreadable look in his garnet eyes. 

Without taking his stare off Pansy, he directed a question at Snape, "Severus, I find it odd that you continue to favor the Malfoy boy when he's publicly left me."

"The old fool is watching everyone at Hogwarts at the moment. I do not dare draw more then necessary attention to my movements. My place as spy has been cemented however. No one suspects me of treachery to them when I so blatantly favor Draco still."

"Always the schemer, Severus?"

"Only for you, my Lord."

"And the continual flatterer I see. Very well then. I want you to watch the Malfoy boy. And Harry Potter. I want nothing extracurricular to escape your eyes. Anything else to report?"

Snape bent onto one knee and grasped at Voldemort's robes. "My Lord, Dumbledore plans something for Azkaban. I've overheard conversations between him and McGonagall about the Dementors. It seems that they're trying to persuade Fudge to turn Azkaban over to human guards."

If Snape had been expecting any sort of reaction, he did not expect a high, chilly laugh. His mind convulsed as the waves of dark laughter wrapped around his neck and squeezed. "My dear Severus. You worry too much. Azkaban is ours regardless of the Dementors or not. And I have other ways of making sure the Dementors will be on our side for the war."

Snape looked flabbergasted and his mouth opened in hopes of finding out more when Voldemort cast him a piercing eye. "Anything more?"

He swallowed and then whispered fervently, "Remus Lupin is at the castle."

"The werewolf has returned to its keeper? What a joke Dumbledore is. Perhaps he'll join us this time around… Watch him, Severus. His return to Hogwarts is too coincidental."

"With what?"

"Nothing you need to know about. Oh, and Lucius would very much like for you to take care of Draco for him." Voldemort then waved Snape away impatiently. "You may leave, Severus. She will return to you later."

Snape didn't move.

"I know how _precious_ your students are, so I assure you, she will be back."

Snape bore his dark eyes into Pansy's, and in them, she begged for him to leave. If he stayed, Voldemort would grow suspicious of both of them, and there had already been too much sacrificed to simply give it all up now. Finally, with a brusque nod of his head he disappeared, leaving her alone with the clumsy Death Eater she had seen earlier, and her Lord… Voldemort. 

As if controlled by the Imperio Curse, she glided toward Voldemort who had lowered his body back onto his high-backed chair. Eyes peered at her from lowered, purplish eyelids and she sank to her knees by his feet. "My Lord."

Voldemort waved away the rotund Death Eater who was always lurking by his side, and with a lingering look at Pansy, the boy? Man? Girl? did. She refused to let her breathing accelerate or change, but her heart palpitated wildly, and she fervently hoped Voldemort couldn't hear the loud thumping above his raspy breathing. 

"Miss Parkinson…" She swallowed convulsively, and seeing the sudden serpentine-like smile on Voldemort's face, she knew he saw. One thin, pale, and spidery hand reached out and caressed her hair, smoothing down the odd bumps here and there. She barely prevented herself from simultaneously moving closer and further from the equally repulsive and attractive touch. He almost oozed with power, but the power was tainted with darkness, and while she badly wanted to sink into the sinful heat, she couldn't help but shudder as the mental images of hell roiled in her mind. 

"Lucius told me that your father and him had agreed to a marriage arrangement between yourself and Draco Malfoy. Or the former Draco Malfoy. I have no idea what the traitor calls himself these days." Voldemort chuckled, seemingly very amused by his own joke. 

Pansy shuddered as the questing fingers slipped behind her ear, but she didn't answer. 

"Miss Parkinson? Is that true?"

Forcing her eyes to remain on the ground, she murmured as she kissed the hem of his voluminous robes, "Yes, it is true my Lord. I was engaged to the turncoat. But no longer. Our family broke off the engagement when we first received news about his defection from my Lord's side." And how her father had rejoiced. He had finally gotten one-up on his mortal rival for the Dark Lord's favor. 

Voldemort touched a white finger under her chin, and tilted her face up. Refusing to look away, she gazed into his red eyes and though the small part inside of her still sobbed in wretched pain, the other, larger piece was infinitely fascinated and drawn by the sheer strength he exuded. Voldemort must have satisfied himself by whatever he distinguished in her cerulean eyes; he let her go and resumed his almost mockingly gentle combing motions through her hair. 

"Then why are you still so friendly with him?"

A question she had been prepared for. "My lord; it would be foolish of me to draw unneeded attention by spurning what I formerly fawned over. There are many who hate Slytherins in school." That was one truth that fell from her lips. And she added intensely real bitterness to it. 

"Ah… yes… I suppose you're mind works better then those who have made a great show of turning on Draco?"

"I dare not claim that superior compliment. I work for my Lord and my Lord only." Pansy bowed her head and her blood quickened at the restless feeling of the icy hands through her hair. Did he even have a soul? He seemed as cold as a corpse. 

"Very true, Miss Parkinson. Your father touted your attributes well. Tell me; at your initiation, you seemed frightened and unwilling to receive the mark. Was it not an honor? For the mark to be awarded to someone as young as yourself?" Voldemort almost seemed amused by his questions, and Pansy felt fear catch in her throat.

"I… I am ashamed. I behaved poorly and it reflected on my father and mother. I assure you, my Lord, I was very proud… but I was summoned very suddenly. My father gave me no explanation for my sudden appearance amid my Lord's humbling presence, and I was in awe."

"Were you frightened?"

Pansy froze. For one dark moment, she didn't know how to answer. Answer truthfully and give Voldemort a reason to believe her? Or answer with lies and have him wonder about her arrogance?

With quiet conviction she didn't realize she could summon forth at the moment, Pansy admitted, "I was, my Lord."

"You were?"

"I was. And I am."

She could _feel_ him smile, a feral, hunting grin. The Dark Mark fairly pulsed with anticipation, and the hands nestled themselves onto her shoulder. Pansy felt her heart rate slow, and suddenly, she was grateful for the thick robes they were required to wear as Death Eaters. It hid her sweating, shaking body, and prevented her from catching chill in the cold air.

"Honest my dear. Tell me one more thing; would you do anything for me?"

Pansy inwardly sighed with rushing relief. Bringing up his hem again, she pressed pale lips against the velvety softness and whispered, "Anything my Lord Voldemort requires of me, I would accomplish for him."

"Even if my orders were to kill Draco Malfoy?" Amusement tickled from his raspy voice, and Pansy wanted to shriek no, no, and no again. But drawing on that dark part in her, the space that _did_ hate Draco Malfoy for turning when she couldn't, for making the choice she never made, for being able to deny the very darkness she was accepting, that part answered smoothly.

"Yes." 

"Even if I asked you to poison that foolish mudblood-lover Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

"Would you rather enter Azkaban or flee like rats from a sinking ship?"

"Infinitely Azkaban." And that was true. She would have preferred that hateful place to the world controlled solely by the Ministry and their standards of 'good' and 'evil'. 

Voldemort paused, the silence contemplative. One hand started trailing its cold fingers up and down her neck, and she shuddered. Out of pleasure or pain, she didn't know. With her lips still on his robes, she dared to look up, and through the growing darkness, as the various light spells started fading, she saw that his teeth gleamed dully. Voldemort was smiling faintly, and the red, which normally would have signaled Gryffindor warmth, only filled her with coldness unparalleled. 

"I have spoken to your father and he has most enthusiastically agreed." Voldemort ran a cold hand down her face and Pansy turned into it, undeniably breathless. "You know I am searching for immortality?"

"Yes, my Lord. I have heard father speak of it."

"I find that risky, since there can be no definite future, as much as I would like to control it. And one day I shall. But that is beyond the point at the moment." How she had ended up here, kneeling at Voldemort's feet, her head and shoulders in his lap, her blonde hair being brushed out by his thin fingers, she couldn't figure out. 

"I have been looking for several months now. Searching for someone appropriate." He paused, voice smoothing out. "My powers are strong, and there are few of the female persuasion who could bear it."

Pansy felt her blood run cold. 

He tilted her head up once more, and his horrible, frightening eyes looked down into hers, expressionless, unassuming. She could almost believe that there was some tenderness lurking in them, if not for the cold, hungry glint for domination in all aspects of his life. 

"I want an heir."

Barely daring to breathe, she managed to force out, "An heir? I am a female… an heir is always male among purebloods." Her insides quaked and before he could utter a word, she knew with dulling clarity of what he wanted. Of what proclamation he would declare next to ruin her. 

"I have selected you as my bride. As my vessel. As the mother of my heir." Voldemort cupped her face and pressed thin, so very cold lips to hers, and she didn't move one muscle. Her heart stilled, the same as his, and she felt the ice seep through her, pour into every part of her soul, and still, she didn't move. 

In her mind, she had known since the beginning, since the moment her mother has first started fussing over her looks and dress, always providing her with an endless account of galleons for clothing and makeup, always taking her to one magical doctor or another in order to carve out her best figure. Pansy had seen other Death Eater mother's growing obsessed with their daughters, and this was the reason. 

Voldemort was eventually to choose one of them. 

When her silence grew piercing, Voldemort glanced at her quizzically. "Do you not agree?"

She automatically shook her head 'no', but she couldn't voice the words yet. 

"There, there. If you don't want to, I can find another." His voice was caring, and she could hardly believe that it was Voldemort, the darkest lord since Grindelwald, the bloodless leader of the Death Eaters, a new wizarding persona that 'proved' how 'evil' Slytherins were. He continued, his words deceptively soft. "There are others."

_Others I would damn if I refused. Others that would die because I didn't agree._

"…I am in shock, my Lord."

"Yes, I suppose you would be. Your bloodline is pure, above all. Your powers have adequately displayed themselves, and your physical features will assure that the heir will be beautiful." Voldemort ran a fond hand over one pale cheek. "Such _purity_ will show all of the wizarding world of what is truly worthy and what is worthless." He suddenly sneered and she was vividly reminded of what he represented. 

"Miss Parkinson?"

Through her mind, hundreds of thoughts were buffeted by her memories. 

…Professor Snape believing her when she had no one else to turn to. 

…Draco watching Harry with anguished fascination in his gray eyes, unable to tear them away even when the Boy Who Lived turned to lock green with silver, and from then on, refused to back down. 

…A grieving Cho Chang at the end of fourth year when Cedric Diggory had died. 

…Millicent's shining eyes as she told Pansy of her parent's decision in refusing the mark for her.

…Gryffindor taunts of the Slytherin's lack of courage and bravery. 

…The tears in Neville Longbottom's eyes when the first letter had swooped in, bearing the news of his grandmother's death. 

…Her coming-of-age party where she had first met Voldemort. 

…Seeing Draco and Harry together for the first time in public and wanting to cry with the sheer joy.

…Dumbledore's moment of weakness when she had first seen the signs of weary burdens.

…The pain-filled scream of that woman who had fallen apart simply because she had seen the Death Eater insignia. 

…The look of tears and rage in the Ravenclaw's eyes as he beat at her – but not her, oh, not her, but at the Death Eater she represented. 

All of these memories sieved through a spectrum of diverse emotions, and she had to mentally cut it all off to prevent herself from ripping completely apart at the seams. Voldemort had been watching her carefully and suddenly, her colorless lips of delicate composition smiled, and he involuntarily smiled back, charmed by the prettiness of her curved lips.

_Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater._

"I would be honored beyond comprehension to be your chosen vessel." There were no delusions in her flat statement. She knew he saw her as a womb rather then as a woman. She would receive the glory of being his chosen bride, the untold power of his favor, but nothing else. 

At the same time, she also knew that, in his own way, he fancied her. Because Voldemort never chose anyone without reason.

And she _was_ female. 

For all his discarded mannerisms, he was still inherently male. And he wanted _her_. Not anyone else. But _her_.

Voldemort clapped his hands together, and his voice reverting back to the hiss he hadn't entirely gotten rid of, he called out, "Wormtail, a glass of wine for myself and my new bride to be."

The rotund – Wormtail was it? – Death Eater appeared from nowhere and Pansy found herself being examined by eyes the color of pale blue water. They were astonishingly bright, and she found herself not caring when she normally would have been avidly curious. 

Wormtail poured out two glasses of aged wine, and the bright, maudlin red seemed out of place amid all the suffocating black. Voldemort plucked one of the delicate works of glass from the tray and handed it to Pansy who took it with an automatic touch. With a smooth, flowing movement, he stood and drew her close to him. With one arm around her shoulder, he pressed their glasses together, the tinkle ominous in the bitter air. 

"To my future wife." He spoke to the air, but the way he drew the words out, there might as well been hundreds of followers present, all stiff and formal in their robes. Pansy didn't shudder. "To my future male heir. To my _dearest_, Pansy Parkinson." His soft emphasis on the word 'dearest' left her dull and panicked at the same time.

She raised her glass to his, distantly realizing that she was sealing an agreement that echoed wrongly on so many different levels. "To my Lord. To my Lord's male heir. To a future where purebloods govern." _And to the world. To Professor Snape. To Draco and Millicent. And yes… to damnation and hell and darkness._

Voldemort sipped his drink and watched her down the entire glass with a single breath of air. He patted her pale cheek and he sank back down into his throne, motioning for her to follow. Placing her glass carefully back onto the tray, her fingers lingered on the cool surface, running bloodless tips over the smoothness. She would never be able to drink wine again. 

"Now that our engagement is sealed, I will refer to your name of birth. And you may have the distinct honor of calling me 'Voldemort', one that few have. Pansy, come here to me." His voice brooked no argument and she obeyed without question. Absently, she realized that her father had been right all along. Death Eaters did belong to Voldemort. Body, mind, and soul. 

She didn't react as she watched with blank eyes when he pulled his wand from his robes. When he pushed her collar aside at her neck, all Pansy did was tilt her head accommodatingly. Murmuring Latin words she didn't quite understand, small, white sigils appeared like misty fog in the morning sunlight. A burning rush touched her skin and it crept along the thin layers of skin cells and plunged into her lungs like a sweet poison.

Resisting the sudden urge to push Voldemort away, to scream, to shriek, to do anything but submit to him so quietly, so meekly, Pansy closed her eyes as Voldemort's words trailed to an end. She felt more then saw him lean forward to press corpse-like lips against the point where his wand had claimed, and she felt the lips grown hot, unbearably hot, and…

"You now belong to me entirely. My personal mark is written into your skin. Any male who dares to come near you with less then worthy attentions will be tortured with excruciating pain." He suddenly purred, and she felt his nose nuzzle as at her bared neck. "You will make me a lovely bride." Pansy held herself absolutely still, because if she didn't, she knew she would throw up. 

"You should return now. Undoubtedly Severus will be rather worried for his students." With a chaste peck to her forehead, he pushed her slightly away. Pansy bent onto her knees and kissing his hem, she murmured her goodbyes. And then walked away, a small part of her amazed at her complete coolness of the situation. 

Her steps echoed loudly in the silence. The silence that belonged to the Death Eaters and no one else. Voldemort had already claimed this area as his domain, and he would never tolerate birds and animals acting noisily at all hours of the night. Another aspect of her life that would change shortly. 

As soon as she entered the outskirts of Hogsmeade, she Apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts and entered, not quite seeing the odd looks the guardians of the gates gave her. When she pushed open the doors to the great hallway, she dizzily realized that a small throng of people were quietly milling around, apparently awaiting her arrival.

A small cry greeted her entrance, and she distantly heard Professor McGonagall ask her if she was "all right?" No, she would never be "all right", but never mind that. Draco was there. So was Potter. And Granger. And Weasley. Millicent appeared at her side, worried at Pansy's uncharacteristic silence. 

And then Pansy's blue eyes, darkened tonight by her new revelation, focused on the one person who had listened to her tortured whispers of how viciously beautiful Voldemort was to her. He had sat by her quietly, without judgment, as she raved one night about how she was torn between Voldemort and Dumbledore, never once mentioning that she should always pick Dumbledore's. He had endured her ravages of skin, wanting to tear off the mark while worshipping it at the same time. 

Professor Snape was standing on the edge of the foyer, an unreadable look in his eyes. She drifted forward, ignoring everyone else in favor for the one person who understood how much her soul hurt at the moment. 

Wrapping thin arms around his torso, she barely heard the startled gasps as she sought comfort, silent and strong. He easily lifted her up into his arms and words of "Pomfrey" and "Infirmary' soared through her mind, but she simply nestled closer, willing herself to forget the echoing words of Voldemort. 

_My bride to be._

As soon as she entered the infirmary, the smell of medicinal potions and dried herbs assaulted her senses. Fumbling at Snape's robes, she choked out for a pot, for a container, for anything. He hastily set her down and with a deft hand, fetched an unused bedpan. Uncontrollably, she bent forward and a wave of renewed nausea swept over her. 

She retched over and over, the contents of her stomach continually clenching until she had nothing left but acid to give. Even then, she continued to heave dryly, unaware that hot tears were burning silvery tracks across her cold skin. Finally when her stomach had purged all that was physically possible, Pansy collapsed to the floor, shivering uncontrollably. 

Pansy felt herself being lifted and gently deposited onto a soft bed. There was a rustling and small argument, but within seconds, a small bottle of earthy green liquid was shoved gently near her lips. Opening automatically, she swallowed the bitter liquid, and in the moment before she drifted off, she catalogued the potion as the Dreamless Sleeping Draught. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Poppy Pomfrey made a disapproving sound as Snape fed Pansy the draught, but he ignored her in favor for his student. When her eyes fluttered shut and she fell into a deep sleep, he straightened and tucked the bottle carefully back into one of his many pockets. 

With the manner of a worried hen, Pomfrey tugged the sheets and blankets up around Pansy and she murmured with a fretful air, "Poor dear. Having to face You-Know-Who all by herself."

Snape knew she hadn't directed any of her words at him. She was merely focusing on her own sympathy, but he felt the guilt well up anyway. It was his fault for leaving her so easily with Voldemort. He should have intervened and asked for more time. Should have pointed out that the school was suspicious as it was and he didn't want to risk more time then necessary for a student out of bed. Oh, he knew that there were other students at those meetings, students that he only had suspicions on, never absolutes... 

But Voldemort had never wanted to talk to them alone.

By now, Poppy was moving around the room with a business-like efficiency. With a small clean-up spell, she nodded in satisfaction at the room. Glancing back at the brooding Snape, she sighed and asked, "Do you want to stay here with her? I know you probably won't get a wink of sleep either way, but at least here you can guilt with more ease."

Snape glared at her, and she grinned cheekily back. Patting him motherly on the shoulder, she went out the door and closed it quietly. 

He was left with one of his students, one who had just returned from an unknown rendezvous with Voldemort. Snape had been bowled over as any of the Death Eaters when Voldemort requested Pansy stay behind. The Dark Lord rarely, if ever, concerned himself with the junior Death Eaters, and it was doubly rare for the person to be female. 

Eye's darkening, they steepled below his chin and he stared into nothing. Wondered over the details, but after seeing Pansy's reaction, it had to have been something of either great importance or horrifying revelation. He hoped it was the former, since the latter would mean something entirely different. 

He barely heard the door creak quietly open, but he _did_ hear slight footsteps. Whirling around, he glared at the intruder and until her recognized the silver-dusted auburn hair. Sighing inwardly, he turned back to Pansy's unmoving figure below the pile of blankets. Remus shut the door gently and locked it with a whispered incantation. Moving with a grace that screamed of wolfish tendencies, he set himself gently into a chair next to Snape's, watching Pansy with troubled eyes. 

Snape pretended not to notice, but he couldn't help but feel the heat emanating from Lupin's figure. Unconsciously pressing himself closer, he inhaled unobtrusively. God, Remus smelled good. Like the dirt. Like the earth. Like everything he wasn't. 

Later, he would wonder why in the hell he had done it, why he had broken his twenty-year long sabbatical from any form of emotional affection. But one of his hands suddenly burrowed to its right and brushed Lupin's left hand. The heat flared like an explosion of fire.

Hesitating, he debated whether to grab on to it, when the question was solved for him. In the darkness where he couldn't see Remus and Remus couldn't see him, their hands cradled each other, a tender moment in a long stretch of bitter flashes. Silence was their other companion, and with it, darkness followed. 

And it was sweet darkness. One that a weary soul could rest in. One where one who had tired of the light could sleep in. 

With those work-roughened fingers stroking his own, Snape was startled to discover tears blurring his vision. To feel the long-forgotten ache in his chest. To realize that he was still human enough to want something so simple as skin to skin contact. 

~*~ FINIS ~*~

NOTES:

**1 – **A reference from Nomad's arc, "Conspiracy of Silence". There are seven series, each devoting itself to a year of Snape's life at Hogwarts. It was just finished, and this is a homage to a great fic. *sniff* I'll miss calculating!Snape. 

**2 – **Mary Sue. *grins* There are already many, many DADA professors. Thought I'd do a little joke about it. 

**3 – **Coffee? Think the Coffee Series by Telanu. A favorite of mine, since it was one of the first Snape/Harry fics I've ever read (along with the tea series) 

This took forever. 

Sorry to those who have been following since the beginning. *sigh* Further chapters should be faster. I was just stuck on how precisely to handle Pansy in this chapter. I've decided that Draco and Harry will be the lesser characters in this. This focus will be on Remus and Severus. And to a lesser extent, Pansy, though it seems that she's stealing the show. ^__^  I've been thinking of getting back on track with Snape and Remus, and then creating a whole fic for Pansy.

I think the reason I like her so much is that she's what many girls want to be. We want to tell off the people we hate, but partially because of our own feelings of rebuke and guilt, we rarely do. And of course, she's my prime example of why Slytherin House isn't want it seems on the surface to Harry's eyes. 

As for my characterization of Voldemort, that's deliberate plot-hole for the Harry and Draco part of the arc. The difference between fourth and seventh year is great, and undoubtedly, Voldemort would be gathering 'flesh'. Think the priest in "The Mummy". As for his choice, I actually think Voldie's bisexual. He doesn't care about the gender; just as long as he likes or craves it, he'll take it. 

Pansy is someone he wants mostly for breeding, since I gather she has the purest line of all the Slytherin girls. From canon, I get the sense that Pansy and Draco are together under their parent's orders. And if that's true, that means its like Narcissa and Lucius. Their bloodline would be perfect for each other. That's why I had him select her. This was the squicky thing I was talking about. I grew a little sick just with the idea of him selecting her to have his heir. I suppose because it just seems so… deliberate. *shudders*

Thanks to all those who have reviewed! It made my day!

**Reviewers:**

**DrWorm** – Converting eh? *laughs* I hope so! I love Snape/Lupin far more then Black/Lupin. I suppose the angst factor figures in, and add in the fact that I don't particularly like Sirius. *sigh* I put in all the witches because I figure that's us. ^__^ Is the angst a bad thing?

**ThreeOranges **– I have 'things' planned for Pansy. Nothing to be revealed now, but I suppose it would be good to warn you all that it's not going to be all happy-sappy. I love the girl, but in my mind, the character's walking on a dangerous path. As for Figg… *grins* She's there partially to be the defender of Severus Snape. Can't have everyone hating him, right? ^__^ And Dumbledore… he needs to admit he made mistakes. *sigh* Still not sure how to redeem the Slytherins in the proper, but subtle way. 

**Shinigami** – Most all know that Harry was almost sorted into Slytherin. This wasn't explicitly explained because I'm leaving that for the H/D arc of this timeline. *grins* And I'll include the Arabella/Dursley scene in that part too. It's all mapped out somewhat in my mind, but until I finish this one, it won't be on my list of priorities. As for Pansy and Hermione; the two will have to face something together. Just won't say what. 

**Moonfire **– Can do! Thanks for reviewing!

**Slytherin Goddess **– Bring it on indeed. They're so much more enjoyable to write about then any other couple I've happened upon. I'm slowly delving into other ships, but this one is still my primary favorite. Thanks!

**Nostradamus** – I'm having her as the primary Slytherin for this series. Harry and Draco will get their turn in their own arc, but this is about Snape, Remus, and Pansy. Or actually, it was supposed to be about Snape/Remus, but Pansy elbowed her way in and now she won't leave. So I might divide her time between this and her own fic. ^__^ Arabella is one of my favorite characters, simply because she's one of the few female Aurors that I'm relatively sure exists. 

**Morgiana** – Thank you! Gryffindor biases make me all indignant with rage. They're the 'Golden House' and everything they do is right while everything Slytherin does is wrong. Which is too black and white for my tastes. The one thing that makes me cry is the fact that so many Slytherins *could* be directed back to the right path if they were given a chance. But they aren't given anything but scorn. No wonder many join Voldemort. As for Arabella. ^__^ Probably a little. She's my protector for Severus Snape. He'll need it in the future. 

**Nyarth Kyukon** – If there was one thing I wanted to do, that would be to sit J.K. Rowling down and talk to her about the Slytherins and what she planned for them. And then tell her about a group of people online that has a certain love for Slytherin House… The original theme for this fic was Snape/Remus, but it turned into something larger, that included Pansy. *sigh* She's stealing the show a bit, but the next part… it'll be Remus and Snape action!

**Ustonz** – Thank you! I hope you liked this part too!

**Saint Fool – **Slytherin that I am, I couldn't resist having someone other then Draco be a defector from Voldie's side. It would seem rather hypocritical if only Draco Malfoy sided with the Gryffindors. As for Sirius; don't worry. He'll get his own back later. I don't intend to make him completely the bad ass. *giggles* I actually rather like him. It's that just when he goes head to head with Severus, he tends to become some what of a… er… jerk. Wedding's are my thing! And yes, the HP world SO needs more strong female characters! What is with it, that the only strong females shown regularly are McGonagall and Hermione? As for Snape chasing – I finally figured out how I'm going to do that. *winks* It should satisfy everyone. 

**Littlewitch34 **– I think that's what I was aiming for. I wanted to show that not all Slytherins were evil, and that seeing the books from Harry's POV greatly limits are view of the Slytherins. They are, after all, only children, 

**Nadeshiko Amamiya **– I love Slytherin House. To the end of time. Thank you for reviewing1

**Little_alley_dog **- *beams* Thank you! I spend a long time on that section, mainly because there are times I would gladly strangle Dumbledore for what he does to Snape sometimes. Imagine; going back to Voldemort over and over. It would age anyone for life. 

**Dana Phearson** – Your fics? What's your pen name? I would love to see them! Dumbledore and Snape's past is still partially a mystery… but some will be revealed in the far future. ^__^

**Hana-chan** – I'm glad you continued reading. Arabella and Pansy are quite dear. I'm almost rather scared that they'll get out of control and take over this fic. ^__^ "Operation Snog" will go off on a good note… and it'll end in a neutral way. I don't know whether I intend to make it happy or not. Maybe both. 

**Melodie **– Glad you enjoyed it! Hope you liked this part as much. 

**Sugahcat** – Anything for Remus and Severus. Harry probably wouldn't feel comfortable helping, but Draco would! He and Hermione will try their damndest to get the two together. If for no other reason because Draco's fond of Snape and Hermione's fond of Remus. Snape and Remus deserve a hand for all they've gone through. The Shrieking Shack still hangs heavy in my mind. *grin* Thank you!

Mucho gracias to all reviewers! You people make my day!

The next part will be out MUCH sooner then this one. Thank heavens. 


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